Seduced
by Muggle Jane
Summary: Ginny has a new job at the Ministry of Magic where she has to work with a family rival... A rival who makes a very shocking declaration. Follows along after 'Lost,' rated "M" for adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: None of the characters belong to me, sadly, and of course I'm not trying to make money from this! This follows along after the end of 'Lost' and will be entirely from Ginny's POV.**

This week had already been going fairly horribly, and from the sounds of it, it was about to get a lot worse. It had started on Saturday when I'd been hit square in the head by a bludger during a game with Puddlemere United and had fallen all the way to the ground. There was a trip to St. Mungo's where I'd been told I almost died and had some broken bones set and- worst of all- been told that I wasn't allowed back on the Quidditch pitch. Apparently by 'almost died' what they meant was, 'another strong blow to the head will probably kill you.'

I'd spent the next two days moping around the flat and feeling sorry for myself and wondering just what the bloody hell I was going to do with my life, and then late Tuesday evening, yesterday, I'd received an owl from the Ministry with an urgent job opportunity. I use the word opportunity, but it was more of a summons. And while I needed a job to continue contributing to my half of the rent and expenses, I was quickly finding out that this job may not be all it was cracked up to be.

"I know that there's been some tension between your families," the Minister was saying. He was sitting on the edge of his desk with his arms folded, a very weary look on his face. "But we do need someone we can trust to keep an eye on Mr. Malfoy."

"It's fine," I said reluctantly. Apparently Draco's mummy and daddy had bought him a position at the Ministry, or something like that. The Minister wanted someone to keep an eye on him, naturally, and apparently I was just the person available and trustworthy enough to do so. I knew that he and Harry had come to some kind of understanding. Not friendship or anything like that, but he was on the Christmas card list this year.

"If you're not up for it, we can arrange for someone else to fill the position." He sounded as though the idea would put him out tremendously.

I sighed, rubbing the still-tender part at the back of my head where I'd been hit. "No, Minister, it's fine." I attempted a smile. "Thank you for the opportunity, I wasn't sure what I was going to do after they kicked me off the team."

"I am sorry for that." He did look a little regretful, but mostly he looked as though he was balancing a lot of plates all at once.

I looked into his brown eyes, at once worried and sympathetic and sighed again. "I'm sorry, Minister, I'm still sulking a little." I didn't even want to think about it, much less talk about it. And yet here I was, thinking about it. I shifted in my seat in an effort to keep the scowl off my face. It wasn't his fault. "I'm more than happy to be able to help out."

"Thank you, Miss Weasley," he said sincerely. "Do you know the way down to International Magical Cooperation?"

"Level five?" That's what Harry had told me. He was excited that we would both be working for the Ministry. He'd been worried about me playing Quidditch professionally, although very supportive, but I knew he was a little relieved that I would be keeping my feet firmly on the floor.

"That's right," he answered. He stood and I did as well, recognizing my cue to leave. "If you need any help, I would suggest sending Luna a message. She was the one who filled this position- albeit briefly- before you."

That made a sudden amount of sense. From Mum's floo call at a ridiculously early hour this morning, she'd told me that Luna was taking on a full load of classes at the school. "I'll work it out, Minister," I said, attempting another smile. He offered me his large hand and I took it for a moment before showing myself out of his office.

I walked to the lifts with a growing sense of trepidation. I stepped onto the first one that opened, and several flying memos accompanied me on my trip down to level five. I scanned the doors as I walked down the hall, looking for the one that said, "Malfoy." I paused in front of it, then squared my shoulders and pushed the door open.

"Ah, Miss Weasley." I knew that haughty voice that always insisted on putting an "h" after the "w" in my last name. That was not Draco's voice. "Do come in." Lucius Malfoy hadn't really changed in the almost-two-years since I'd seen him. Admittedly, he did look better than the last time I'd seen him- impeccably groomed and sharply dressed, not bedraggled and lost-looking like he had been.

I stared at him for a minute, not saying a word. I glanced up to the sign on the door beside me and saw the unmistakable, "L. Malfoy" on the shiny gold plate. How had I missed that before?

"Come in and shut the door, please," he instructed, infuriatingly smug.

Of all the people I didn't want to be shut in a room with, Lucius Malfoy was pretty high on that list. "You?" I asked incredulously. "You work at the Ministry?"

"Yes, Miss Weasley," he replied in that irritatingly arrogant voice. "I still have considerable influence with certain international parties. And the Ministry in their _infinite_ wisdom very much wants to keep an eye on my activities; this being, of course, why _you_ are here."

I had no words for that. My day was definitely steadily growing worse. I stepped fully into the room and let the door swing shut behind me.

When I didn't say anything, he gestured to the desk he was currently perched on the edge of with one of his hands braced against his thigh. "This will be where you attend to your duties. I will be through there," he pointed to the door opposite me, which was open to show a desk with a lot of papers on it. "As my _assistant-_" I did not like the inflection he put on that word and I found myself wondering how badly it would go for me if, on my first day, I punched my new boss. "- your primary task will be to assist me. Taking dictation, filing correspondence, arranging meetings and taking notes, that sort of thing; as well as keeping yourself abreast of the international trade agreements with France, Canada, and Germany- past, present and potential. International travel will come up infrequently and, in addition to making the arrangements for it, you will also be required to accompany me."

"Why me?" I muttered, more to myself than to him. It wasn't really a question so much as it was a plea of frustration for being stuck in this position.

He answered me anyway. "Because I asked for you," he told me, and I stared at him in disbelief. This was my dad's enemy. This was the man who had been perfectly happy to kill me by placing that damn diary in with my books during first year. He'd asked for me?

"How?" I heard myself asking.

"I heard about your little accident. It may surprise you, Miss Weasley, that I still have _considerable_ influence here in the Ministry, as well." He was patronizing me. My 'little accident'- punching him was really looking more and more tempting.

"Why?" I asked again.

"There were far less pleasant options than yourself. And because, my dear girl, I intend to seduce you."

I gaped at him, jaw dropped and everything. I couldn't even deal with this right now. I was full up on things to deal with and this was just too much. I spun on my low heel and had my hand on the door before he spoke again. "Running, Miss Weasley?" His cold voice was mocking now. "Of the great _many_ traits attributed to the Weasley name, I've never heard cowardice as being among them."

I found my tongue as I whirled to face him. I knew he was baiting me and I just couldn't stop myself. "Are you mental?"

"I don't believe so," he replied, and there was a thread of amusement in his voice.

I was not amused. "Are you joking?"

"Not in the slightest." One of his eyebrows quirked.

"Why?" I stared at him, trying to figure out what was going on behind those cold gray eyes. "Why? After everything... Why?" I demanded.

"Be assured, my dear girl, I have my reasons."

"I thought you were... happily married," I spat at him, trying to keep my temper down. He was trying to provoke me and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"Not as such," he replied evenly, but his tone grew just a shade colder and his pale eyebrows dropped just a bit into the barest hint of a scowl.

"Is this your grand plan, then? Why tell me? Aren't you afraid I'm going to go home and tell my _boyfriend_ what you said?" Harry would be unhappy, to say the least. No matter what influence Malfoy thought he had, I would bet money that Harry had more.

"Not at all. Pride _is_ one of the traits long associated with the Weasley name, and you are very much your father's daughter." He stood up and, with just a few long strides, was right in front of me. He was so close that I had to crane my head back to look at him. I held my ground, refusing to let him intimidate me with his presence.

He braced himself with a hand against the door, just beside me, and bent his head toward me. His long hair fell forward to brush across my shoulder as he stopped with his mouth beside my ear, so close I could feel his breath. "You're going to think about it. You'll rant and rave and possibly tell one of your _dearest_ girlfriends because you'll want someone to be angry with... But you'll be thinking about it."

He straightened and took a step away, then gestured to the cabinets lining the walls. "I suggest you start familiarizing yourself with the current trade opportunities that the Ministry is engaging in with Canada. I believe I mentioned international travel, and we'll be departing on a trip there on the 27th. I'll need you to be somewhat _knowledgeable_ before we leave." He gave me an appraising look before turning and heading toward the door on the far wall. He paused in the doorway and looked at me again before he swept into the other room and the door clicked shut behind him.

I could feel the angry color flooding my face. That arrogant bastard! He'd backed me into a corner, and he knew it. I couldn't go home now and vent to... Luna- Hermione might inadvertently make things difficult for me- without feeling like I was playing into his hand.

I could quit. I could ask for a different job. My face burned. _Pride_. He'd said it. How could I go to the Minister and tell him that I couldn't handle one ex-Death Eater? And, as much as Harry told me it wasn't necessary, I _needed_ to be able to contribute financially to our relationship. George would undoubtedly give me a job at the shop, but it wouldn't be nearly enough to make up for the lack of salary from Quidditch. This, very unfortunately, would.

I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath, willing the hot flush to leave my face. I could do this. I could pretend almost none of the previous conversation had ever happened. I was a strong woman, not someone to fall at the crook of some man's finger. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting it bother me. Cold? I would show him cold.

I nodded to myself and started searching around the office for the files of the current trade agreements with Canada.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Hermione came to show me where the cafeteria was for lunch time, I'd almost forgotten what Malfoy had said.

Almost.

He was closed away in his private office when Hermione came and knocked on the outer door. She opened it after a moment and glanced at the closed door behind me. "Ready for lunch, Ginny?" she asked.

I nodded. "I should tell him I'm going for lunch, shouldn't I?" I asked her and she hesitated and then it was her turn to nod.

I went and knocked on the inner door. I stared at it for a moment and had just lifted my hand to knock again when it opened. There he was, looking down at me, and I swore his lips were twitching like he was trying not to smile.

"Miss Weasley, you're my assistant, not a guest. A brief knock to announce your presence before simply opening the door will suffice." He sounded amused, too.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Malfoy," I bit out. "I'm going to take my lunch, now."

"Excellent." He paused for a moment, looking down at me. "Was there something else you... _needed_?" His gaze dropped to my mouth for just a moment before his eyebrow quirked and his icy eyes met mine again.

I didn't answer, just spun on my heel and left, Hermione following close behind me. We walked out to the lifts in silence.

My stomach was a pit of uneasy acid, churning around in such a way that I just selected a salad for lunch, not trusting that I would be able to keep anything else down. We went through the line of hungry Ministry employees and found a two-person table underneath a vibrant fern. The Atrium was a lovely place to eat, even if I didn't feel much like eating.

"How has your morning been?" she asked me as we sat down to eat.

"He's an arrogant bastard," I told her darkly.

She nodded sympathetically. "He hasn't really changed much, has he?"

"No," I said, giving my salad a vicious stab with my fork. "The Minister just said, 'Mr. Malfoy.' I thought it was going to be Draco. Imagine my surprise when I walked in there and that long-haired git was sitting on my desk like he owned it."

"He can't be that bad," she said unconvincingly like she was trying to placate me. "He did help bring in a lot of the stray Death Eaters."

"Yeah, and he also said he was under the Imperius curse the first time around. He _is_ that bad," I said hotly, giving my salad another stab. "Oh, and did you hear? We're going_ Canada_. On the 27th." I was going to have to talk to Luna about the trip. Surely she would have started- hopefully finished- some sort of preparations. "I am going to be stuck on the other side of the ocean with Lucius Malfoy."

"For how long?" Hermione asked, one eyebrow raised at me.

"I don't know," I admitted, a little frustrated with myself now for neglecting to ask for that detail. And now asking about it would necessitate talking to him again. "I bet Luna will know."

"Wait." She stopped eating, her hand frantically coming to grip my forearm. "Ginny, that's Monday."

I froze with my fork halfway to my mouth. Monday. Less than a week. So this was why the Minister summoned me into work so urgently. I stabbed my fork viciously into my salad again. "I can't... Monday!"

She looked at me for a moment. "You could quit," she said. "I'm sure the Minister would understand, given all of the bad history between your families. I'm sure George would take you on at the shop."

I sighed and tossed my fork at the plate, giving up all pretense that I had any sort of desire to eat. "I can't," I admitted. "I thought about it, but I need to be able to contribute to our bills and things and working for my brother wouldn't allow for that."

"Why?" she asked me, pointedly looking at her own food to ignore the glare I shot at her. "You don't strictly _need_ to, do you, Gin? Even without all of Sirius' money, Harry's pretty well off."

"Hermione Jean Granger!" I snapped at her. "Did you just suggest what I think you just suggested?"

It was her turn to sigh and the look she gave me was contrite. "I'm sorry, Ginny, but you're all worked up about it. Obviously this is bothering you a lot. Is it really worth it?"

I considered her, thinking about telling her what Malfoy had said to me. That was a very bad idea, I decided quickly. She'd tell Ron, and then Ron would tell the rest of the family, and then Dad would probably have another brawl with Malfoy and everyone could get fired. That was a _very_ bad idea. Most of my family and close friends worked at the Ministry and I couldn't see them not wanting to get involved on my behalf.

"Luna did it," I answered after a moment. "I'll see if she has any pointers for putting up with him."

"Luna is the single most patient person in all of England," Hermione replied and I had to nod in agreement.

"At the very least, she'll probably have sorted out all of the travel stuff if we're leaving on Monday." I shook my head, still in a bit of disbelief. "_Monday_."

"How's your head?"

That was another sore topic, and Hermione didn't know the extent of it. No one really did. I hadn't even told Harry. "Still a little sore," I admitted. "I'm off the team, though."

She stared at me for a moment. "I mean, you're here so, obviously..." She trailed off for a minute. "For how long?" she asked, her face carefully neutral. She knew I wouldn't want her pity.

"Forever," I admitted glumly.

"Oh, Ginny," she breathed, her arm coming around my shoulders. "I figured it would be a month or two and you'd be back... There's no going back?"

"No," I said flatly. "They had to heal my brain, Hermione. They told me that another sharp blow to the back of my head could kill me. The team just chucked me. Officially I'm on the injured list until the end of the year when they can cut me from the roster, but there's no going back."

She sat beside me in silence for another few minutes. "Did you tell Harry?"

"Tell him what? That the one thing I've dreamed of since I was six has been ripped away from me?" I shook my head again. "How do you even have a conversation like that? 'Hey, I know things are going really well for you right now, but my life really feels like it's falling apart.' He'd take it personally, wouldn't he?"

It was a serious question. If there was anyone who would know the answer to that, it would be Hermione. But she just shook her head and squeezed my shoulders. "Harry's good at being objective, Ginny. He deserves to know. He's good at being comforting."

I couldn't help the little twinge of jealousy I felt. Harry had always been there for Hermione. Always. When my brother was being just ridiculous, Harry was there to help her feel better. The same Harry who'd decided, by himself, that we needed to break up because he didn't want me to worry about him. Hermione got comfort, I got, 'I'm going to make this emotional decision for you.'

I sighed. "I should get back. I have a lot of reading and catching up to get through if I'm going abroad on Monday." I stood up, leaving my plate where it was. Hermione had assured me that it would be dealt with, much like it was in Hogwarts.

"Just talk to him, Ginny," she urged.

I shook my head and walked away from her, back toward my office. Malfoy's office. I really was going to punch him if he mentioned anything about... that thing he said, and Shacklebolt could just fire me on the spot.

He wasn't back yet, and I settled crossly behind my desk. I pointedly ignored him when he walked back in. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his black robes swirling about his legs as he moved around my desk and past me, into his own workspace. I heard the door quietly close behind me and I was grateful.


	3. Chapter 3

I didn't see Malfoy much for the rest of the day. The only times he actually spoke to me were to dictate a memo and ask me if I was finding everything I needed- with no innuendo that time- the rest of the time he spent cloistered in his office. That was just fine with me.

I gathered the papers on my desk into a neat pile. I debated trying to put them away, but it seemed like a waste of time when I would just be getting them back out again in the morning, and it wasn't like they were just going to jump off my desk and walk out the door.

The inner door opened to admit Malfoy, wrapped in a thick cloak. He paused as he came near the desk and looked down at me. "Let me walk you to the floo," he said, arrogant as always.

I declined to answer, just got to my feet and preceded him to the door. I kept walking as he stopped to close it behind us, but it didn't take long for him to catch up and fall in stride beside me. I was perfectly content to walk along in silence, but apparently he had other plans.

"Do you intend to speak to Mrs. Black tonight?"

"Luna? Yes. I'm hoping that since we're leaving on _Monday_, she'll actually have completed the arrangments," I replied shortly.

He ignored the dig at the short notice I'd been given; I didn't think he was stupid enough to have missed it. "Do pack warmly," he cautioned smugly. "I must say, I'm looking forward to seeing you in dress robes, I'm sure you'll look quite lovely."

I looked up at him and narrowed my eyes at the amused tilt to the corner of his mouth. "Dress robes?"

"Yes, they're holding some sort of event in our honor."

I didn't answer that and, thankfully, he stopped talking as well. We parted at the floos, where he gave me just a slight bow before disappearing into the green flames.

I arrived home that night tired and cross and ready to just have a bath and go to bed. But when I stepped out of the floo into the living room of the flat I shared with Harry, I found a thick trail of red rose petals, leading from the hearth into the hallway. I followed along beside it, stepping beside the velvety crimson path until I reached the open door of our bedroom. I pushed it open to see it all lit up with candles. Harry was just before me, on one knee. I stopped just inside the doorway with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

He beckoned me closer and I walked slowly to him, my legs feeling like they were filled with Hagrid's cake. Harry took my hand in one of his and looked up at me, his green eyes heartbreakingly tender. I was shaking my head before I realized what I was doing. Undeterred, he produced a small box from somewhere and held it out to me as he opened his mouth and asked, "Will you marry me, Ginny?" He was clutching the box tightly and his hand in mine was damp, sweaty.

My heart sank. "I-" I started, unable to find words for what I was feeling. "I can't..."

He flinched back as though I'd hit him. "Why not?" he asked after a minute, struggling to keep his voice pleasant.

"I'm... I'm not ready, Harry. I love you, but I'm so young and I don't have my life sorted out and... I'm just not ready."

He dropped my hand and got up to go and sit heavily on our bed, toying with the box that was sure to contain a beautiful engagement ring. "Why not? Luna's already married, and she's just a few months older than you. My parents were only 18. We're not getting married immediately, this is just a commitment to get married at some point in the future. Why- Why not?" he repeated, sounding just a bit desperate.

"I'm not Luna. We're not your parents. I'm sorry, Harry, I'm just not ready. Maybe in a year or two when I've figured out what I'm going to do..." I needed to tell him. "I can't play Quidditch anymore, Harry. Ever."

"Not at all?" He seemed surprised.

I shook my head bitterly, sinking to the floor where I was. "Never. I almost died. My brain was badly damaged and it took a lot to heal. I can't take another hit like that and, well, it's Quidditch."

"Well, now you have the job at the Ministry, right?" he asked. He didn't get it. Of course he didn't get it.

"I thought I was going to play Quidditch until we were ready to have kids. Then I'd take a couple of years with the kids, and then get a job at the Ministry or maybe as a Quidditch correspondent." I traced patterns in the carpet with the tips of my fingers. I couldn't sit still and I couldn't look at him.

"Ok." He sounded a little bewildered. "That all sounds reasonable, so maybe we just move it up a couple of years- parts of it, anyway. The first step to having children is usually marriage."

"Right, but I can't play Quidditch. Don't you see?" My face was beginning to flood with warmth as the Prewett temper came up. "It was my dream, Harry. It's what I've wanted to do since I was six and I had to sneak my brothers' brooms out to fly. I have spent my entire life working and training and doing whatever I could so I have my dream and now I can't."

"So you'll find something else."

I did look up at him then, more of a glare than a look. "It was my _dream_!" I repeated, shouting the last word. "Did you even have a dream when you were six, other than to get out of that bloody cupboard?" He shifted and I could tell I was making him angry too, but in that moment, I just didn't care. "This was all I wanted for almost as long as I can remember and now I can't have it anymore. Ever. It's thrown off my entire life, Harry. Now I don't know what I'm doing and where I'm going- I hardly know who I am- and I have a job with that bastard who-" I cut myself off. That was definitely not the right thing to bring into this conversation.

"What about your other dreams?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice calm. "You still have me. Let's get married, Ginny, and you'll have me forever."

"Will I?" I asked. "Or are you going to leave me again because you think it's what's best?"

"Are we doing this now, then?" he asked, his voice raising in anger. "I did what was best for you."

"You made that decision all on your own, didn't you? You decided. Not we decided, _you_ decided!" I jabbed my finger at the air in his direction. "And now _you've_ decided that I should be ready to come when you beckon and trip up to the altar at the crook of your finger!" Maybe that wasn't exactly fair. Maybe that was a bit of my anger at what Malfoy had said, but I didn't take it back. "Not, 'Oh, I'm sorry you can hardly recognize yourself in the mirror anymore,' not, 'I understand, I'll give you all the time you need;' you just keep on at this marriage thing because _you_ decided that it's time."

He leaped to his feet, staring at me until I rose as well, his green eyes hooded. "I'm going to step out for some air. I'll just be a minute." His voice was low and strangled. He passed me, and in a moment I heard the front door open and close with more force than was strictly necessary.

I closed my eyes, and I could feel the silent tears streaming down my face. I had to get out of there. I couldn't be there when he got back. But where could I go? Mum would want to ask a million questions, most of which would revolve around, "But why, Ginny?" She'd been counting on me to make him an official part of the family for the last ten years. _So had I_, a tiny voice whispered to me in the back of my mind and I squashed it without a second thought.

Ron would do the same thing and Hermione would put herself in the middle of it, and I definitely didn't need that. Bill was always great for advice, but I couldn't just pop in on them like that. He had a family now. George would... Well, he would be George, and I wasn't quite ready for his version of cheering up yet.

I went to the fireplace and threw in some of the floor powder. "Black rooms, Hogwarts," I said, my voice shaking with tears. I took a deep breath and stuck my head into the green flames. "Hello?" I called softly, looking around.

Sirius came into view, pulling on a shirt. "Ginny, what's wrong?" he asked, worried.

"Is Luna in?" I asked. I sounded miserable. I felt miserable.

"Just a moment." He disappeared back into the other room, and in after a hushed conversation that I couldn't make out, He came out and knelt down in front of me. "She can't get up and about yet, why don't you come here?"

I stared at him dumbly for a moment. Had Luna been hurt? Mum hadn't mentioned anything about that. Did I really want to go there? Sirius was Harry's godfather, what would he say? "Yeah. I need a few minutes, if that's alright."

"Come through whenever you're ready," he offered kindly.

I pulled my head out of the fire and sat back on my heels. I had to pack. I had to write Harry a note. Packing came first. I pulled a suitcase out of our closet and sent clothes flying through the air into it, not really seeing what I was packing. I left the closed suitcase by the fire and went into the kitchen to write Harry a note. He insisted on keeping Muggle pens and I picked one up, hesitating in front of the blank notepad.

_Harry,_

I wrote, then paused. What was there to say?

_Thought we could both use a bit of a break. Please don't come after me. We'll talk again soon._

_Ginny_

I tore the piece of paper off the pad and left it on the middle of the counter. It sat there, heavy and final, and I stared at it for a moment, then brushed the tears off my cheeks and headed to the fireplace.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you for the comments! RedSquirrel2000- Sirius and Luna will be showing up here and there in this one and in the next one, too. :D And probably a few oneshots, but we'll see! **

Sirius was waiting for me, I discovered as I stepped out of the other side. He was wearing a warm cloak like he was ready to go outside. He was teaching at Hogwarts too, he'd become the Transfiguration professor shortly after Luna had pulled him out of the arch in the Ministry. He took in the suitcase and frowned, then pushed his hands through his hair. "She's through there," he said, gesturing to the open door behind him. "She's suggested that I should go and visit Hagrid right now, so it'll just be the two of you. Ginny, if you need anything..." He pulled me to him in a quick hug, then stepped away, peering down at me.

His kindness brought fresh tears to my eyes. I refused to look at him as I answered, "Thank you, Sirius," as steadily as I could.

I dropped the suitcase on the floor and went through the indicated doorway. Luna was there sitting on a sizeable four-poster bed that looked a lot like the beds in the Gryffindor dorms had looked, only a little bigger and lacking bed curtains. She looked extraordinarily tired and pale and her blond hair spread out somewhat limply across the pillows propping her up. "Are you alright?" I asked her. I heard a door behind me close; Sirius was gone.

"I'm a bit worse for wear," she replied, tilting her head to the side as she looked at me. "I lost a great deal of blood last night and I'm pregnant."

I didn't know which part of that to react to first. "Congratulations!" I said, moving to her and hugging her. I felt a strange pang at the news. Harry had thrown her marriage at me and now she was married _and_ pregnant and I wouldn't even get engaged.

"Thank you," she replied, then looked up at me carefully as I stood back. "You look as though you've had a very bad day."

I had to laugh at that, but it was a bitter sound. "That's putting it mildly, Luna. Can I sit down?"

"Of course."

I sat down on the thick yellow bedspread near the end of the bed and studied the rug on the floor. "Aren't you going to ask me what's wrong?" I asked after a couple of minutes.

"I expect you'll tell me when you're ready to talk about it," she replied gently.

I sighed and shifted around on the bed. "It _has_ been a really, really bad day."

"It does look like it," she observed lightly.

But I wasn't ready to talk about it yet. "Mum flooed this morning, said you were taking a bunch of classes and that they caught the man who was after you and Sirius." Right after Sirius had been officially cleared by the Ministry of all murder- and betrayal-of-Harry's-parents-related charges, someone had started attacking both of them with some unknown spell.

I felt the bed shift as she nodded. "It's true," she replied. "It was our D.A.D.A professor, as it turns out, so now I'm sharing the Charms and D.A.D.A. classes with Filius. He's taking all of the N.E.W.T. students of course, I'm not prepared to teach for N.E.W.T.s." She paused for just a second. It's different, you know, being back without being a student. The Great Hall looks very different from the head table, but very much the same. I'm 'Professor Black, the girl one.'"

"Are you... Are you alright?" I turned my head to look at her then, so pale against the cheerful yellow of the pillows.

"Yes. Sectumsempra, you see. I've been cleared to start teaching on Friday, but only if I don't get out of bed until then, so I'm sorry I wasn't able to get up and talk to you through the floo."

"No, it's fine, just as long as you're ok." I patted one of her feet through the soft bedspread. "How's Sirius?"

"Very excited," she said seriously. "And relieved."

I nodded, working through my thoughts. "I'm working for Malfoy now, and he is an insufferable bastard," I spat out after a short time.

She nodded. "He's a bit single-minded, isn't he?"

"We're going to Canada," I continued, reaching my hand up to rub the back of my head. It was beginning to hurt. "On _Monday_."

"Yes. The arrangements I made are all in a file in the bottom right desk drawer. I took care of most of it, the only thing you'll need to do is arrange transportation to the Portkey at the appropriate time." She paused for a moment. "It's King's Cross Station, there are a series of broom cupboards that handle international Portkeys."

I nodded to show I understood, then let out a long sigh. "Why were you working there, anyway?" I asked. "You've got more galleons in the bank than I'm sure I'll ever see in my lifetime." I felt a little guilty asking the question, seeing as I'd snapped at Hermione for asking basically the same thing, but I was curious. Luna was in essentially the same situation I was. How had she handled it?

"I'm afraid I'm not very good at being idle, and I enjoyed working with my friends and being useful. Now, of course, I've taken the classes here. Sirius is rather happy, and Minerva too, although I expect that has a lot to do with Sirius no longer being on at her about giving me a position there."

I couldn't help but marvel at how easily she called Professor McGonagall, 'Minerva.' "Are you and the baby going to move back into one of your houses?"

"No. Minerva said that there's never been a baby at Hogwarts before, but Sirius talked her into giving it a try."

I had to laugh again, and it was genuine mirth this time. "He is good at talking her into things, isn't he?"

"He is," she replied. "She's very fond of him. Filius, too, wants me to take the first years again next year."

"Which of your houses are you going to stay in when school lets out?" It was nice to have a distraction from what had happened. I wasn't ready to talk about the rejected marriage proposal, but I was very glad of the company.

"The townhouse, more than likely. Of course, Narcissa is staying there just now, but Sirius is really starting to like the idea of having a family home." She giggled softly. "He had his mother's mouth painted over."

I looked at her. "Narcissa. Narcissa... Malfoy?" I could barely believe what I was hearing.

"Yes," she replied. "Although she's back to Narcissa Black now."

I recalled Malfoy's earlier words. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," she answered in her airy fashion, as though she wasn't even curious in the slightest. "Narcissa turned up at Hogwarts and asked if she could stay in the family home, since we weren't there."

"And Sirius said yes?" I asked in disbelief. "Are they getting chummy now or something?"

"I wouldn't say that, I was the one who said yes. But they are friendly with each other and, especially now that we'll be having a baby, Sirius is very concerned about family."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "He told me he was going to seduce me." There. It felt a little better getting it out in the open. "Malfoy, I mean. Please don't... tell anyone. I don't want there to be trouble." I opened my eyes again and stared hard at my shoes.

I could see her looking at me out of the corner of my eye. "Alright. I expect your family would be quite cross about it," she observed. "Do you intend to go along with it?"

"No!" I exploded, then winced. "Sorry, Luna."

"That's alright, you're very troubled right now," she answered earnestly.

"And that's not even the worst of it," I mumbled, fresh tears stinging my eyes. "Harry asked me to marry him."

"You said no." She held up her arms. "Come and sit with me, Ginny."

I kicked off my shoes and scooted up the bed until I was sitting beside her. She put her arms around me and pulled my head down onto her shoulder. "He left. I came here while he was gone- I left a note!" I sobbed.

"That was very sensible, it wouldn't do at all to worry him more than necessary. Are you planning on going back there tonight?" she asked gently.

I shook my head, closing my eyes. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get ahold of myself. I never cried. That was one of the things Harry liked about me. I never cried. "I could get a room at a Wizarding hotel," I mumbled miserably.

"You can stay in one of our homes if you'd like," she offered kindly. "Please be aware that the Summer House is shut up and has no food, and the townhouse already has an occupant." She paused for a moment. "Of course, you might find you have much in common with Narcissa now. You could complain about Mr. Malfoy together."

I laughed, reaching up my hand to wipe my eyes. "Thank you, Luna," I said, sitting up. Her arms fell away as I pushed away from her. "Sirius is..."

"Not going to get in the middle of this," she replied seriously, her large gray eyes earnest and her head tilted again as she regarded me. "Neither am I, Ginny. Are you going to come to Sunday dinner?" The apparent change of subject threw me a little bit.

I sighed, toying with the ends of my red hair. "I don't know," I replied honestly. "I'm not sure. I should, I guess, if I'm leaving the country on Monday."

"The Portkey leaves just after midnight, to put you in Ontario Sunday night, so you can eat and get settled into the hotel and be attending meetings and such Monday morning."

"So I'd be leaving The Burrow for..." I dropped my head in my hands. I was starting to get a real headache. "And Harry will be there." Facing Harry and the 'concern' from my family, and then international travel with Malfoy immediately after?

"We're going," she said. "Molly will be very cross if she doesn't find out about the baby as soon as possible."

I had to nod at that. Maybe... Maybe that could be the way I could get through the night. Mum loved babies, and maybe she would fuss over Luna so much that I could hide in a corner or under the sofa or something. "I should go, I guess. How long is the trip for?"

"Mr. Malfoy insisted to come back Saturday evening after the Gala."

I narrowed my eyes. "He is such a prat. King's Cross at-"

"Eight," she supplied.

"-Eight in the morning in dress robes?" I groaned. "I bet Sirius is happy that you're not going." I couldn't help but be a little bitter.

"He is," she replied with a small smile. "He was quite irritated with Mr. Malfoy."

"That makes two of us," I muttered. "I should probably go, Luna. Can, er, can I stay at the Summer House?" I didn't want to face another person, even if that other person might be slightly sympathetic with me for having to deal with her arrogant ex-husband.

"Of course," she replied promptly.

"Thank you. I hope you feel better soon," I added lamely.

"I will, I just need rest. Sirius is very determined that I get it."

I scooted off the bed and leaned down to hug her before going out to where my suitcase was. "I'll see you on Sunday," I called to her, then picked up my luggage and flooed out to the Summer House.

Normally, the Summer House was a very cheery place to be. It was all done up in yellow and pink and there was just a happy air about it. That night, though, nothing was really cheering me up. Being just a bit of a walk away from Shell Cottage made running over to see Bill very tempting, but I couldn't just pop in unannounced with everything I had going on.

I dropped my case on the floor and went to the guest room that I'd slept in a few times before. The bed was bare, but it didn't take too long to make it with clean sheets from the linen cupboard. I huddled in the middle of the bed and let myself cry until I fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

I woke up and immediately realized I was starving. I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning and my stomach was starting to ache with hunger. There was no food in the house, of course, no one had been living in it for a few months. I got ready for work and flooed in early. Hermione had explained that the cafeteria was open every hour of the day. There was always someone working, even if it was just the Aurors putting in a night shift.

I got something to eat and then went to Malfoy's- my- office and sat down at the desk. The office was blissfully empty, he hadn't arrived for the morning yet. I opened the drawer Luna had said the travel arrangements were in and pulled out a file. Sure enough, everything was there, written in her loopy handwriting. There was an itinerary filled with meetings and business lunches, reservations for a Wizarding hotel, the specific location and time of the international Portkey, and even a few notes regarding the meetings we would be attending. There was also a note about dress robes, and mark on the itinerary about a Holiday Gala. I frowned at it. I definitely did not want to go to a Gala, and especially definitely did not want to go with Malfoy. And I was going to need dress robes. Mine were still hanging in the wardrobe at the flat I didn't want to go back to.

The door opened and Malfoy walked in, walking stick held carelessly in one hand. His cold gray eyes swept over me and I could feel a little heat rising into my face. I knew I probably looked a mess with my bloodshot eyes, puffy from so much crying the night before.

"Miss Weasley," he greeted, again with the extra "h." He started the production that was taking off the dark leather gloves, pulling each finger free before taking off the whole glove, and looked down at me expectantly. He was waiting for me to acknowledge him.

"Mr. Malfoy," I muttered, turning my attention back to the file.

"I trust you had a pleasant evening," he said, and the tone of his voice made it very clear he knew I didn't.

I lifted my chin and met his eyes defiantly. "I hardly think that's any of your concern," I snapped at him and I could see the gleam of amusement in his eyes.

"On the contrary, my dear girl, I am very concerned that your nights progress pleasantly." I stared at him for a minute, trying to work out what to say when he continued. "After all, one is _much_ more productive when one has adequate sleep, wouldn't you say?"

He was baiting me again. I would _not_ give him the satisfaction this time. "Is there anything you need this morning?"

His eyes moved over me again and lingered at where my breasts were hidden under my very proper white blouse longer than was appropriate. I opened my mouth to snap at him and his smooth voice cut in. "Just a word, if I may. Are those the arrangements for our international travel?"

"Yes," I answered, swallowing my anger. "And I'm up here, Mr. Malfoy," I added, pointing at my eyes.

"Quite." The corners of his lips twitched. "We'll need to be at King's Cross Station by a quarter to midnight, is that correct?"

I bit back a retort about being surprised he was asking. Obviously he already knew the answer. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

"Where are you living?"

I blinked at him in silence for a minute. "What?"

"The correct phrase is, 'I beg your pardon.'" His cold eyes glinted. "Manners, Miss Weasley, I'm sure you've heard of them before."

I could feel my cheeks burning. "You're lecturing me about manners? I was under the impression that it was impolite leer at a lady you were conversing with."

The corners of his mouth twitched again as though he was trying not to smile."My apologies, Miss Weasley, if my behavior has been anything less than decorous." I snorted at that. "I believe, however, that you heard the question the first time."

"Why are you asking me that?"

"So that I can collect you, my dear girl." The second glove was worked off in the same way as the first and then he came forward to perch on the front edge of my desk, entirely too close to me. I hated it when he did that when I wasn't using the desk, and now that I was, I really just wanted to shove him bodily off.

I stared at him in silence for another minute or two. "Wha- I beg your pardon?" I didn't want to crane my head back to be able to look at him, but after chiding him for inappropriate eye placement I couldn't exactly not. I only hoped he moved away before I developed a cramp.

"It is imperative that we are on time for the Portkey. On the whole, your generation is _sadly _lacking a sense of timeliness. As such, in order to ensure that we arrive at the correct time, I shall be 'picking you up.'" He enunciated the last part very carefully as though the phrase was unfamiliar to him.

"Oh, no," I said quickly. There was no way that was going to happen. Malfoy at The Burrow? Dad would... "You can't."

One eyebrow lifted. "And why not?"

"Because the family has Sunday dinner every week. Together." I probably shouldn't have said that, judging by the predatory look that came over Malfoy's face.

"Really?" he all-but-purred, a decidedly predatory look coming over his face. "And this dinner is at your family home?"

I nodded mutely. I hadn't had enough sleep for my mind to move quickly enough to see where he was going with this, but I could tell that it wasn't anywhere I wanted him to.

"Oh, _very _good. I'll collect you at half-past eleven, then. We can apparate to my estate and then floo to the Ministry and I'll have a car take us to King's Cross Station." He paused for a moment, looking down at me in that smug way that made me want to reach for my wand. "Unless, of course, we can floo from your family home."

"Oh no," I said, shaking my head. "Do you want to get into another fist-fight with my dad? I don't think so. I'll meet you here at half-past eleven, out by the floos." He looked like he was on the verge of disagreeing with me, and I cut in. "Look. I'll go to your house and wait outside your front gate if I have to, but you are _not_ going to The Burrow."

"Very well," he intoned graciously, as though he'd generously decided to grant me a favor. "I'll meet you here at precisely 11:20. If you're not here at exactly that time, I will be coming to your family home to collect you." There was an unmistakable threat in his voice.

"Very good," I replied, mimicking him, and the corners of his mouth twitched again. "I thought I was going to be the one to make all the travel arrangements."

"Next time you will be, Miss Weasley. I believe it will be France in March. But this time, there's simply not enough time for you to make adequate arrangements on your own. We could, of course, apparate to some nearby location, but I do not wish to be walking down to King's Cross Station with all of our luggage."

Of course. He probably had a whole suitcase just dedicated to hair products. I bit back a sudden giggle and stared hard at my desk to avoid looking at his shining, white-blond locks. I somehow got the impression that my giggling at what was surely an extremely intensive hair-care routine wouldn't go over very well. "I see."

I felt his eyes on me for another moment before he rose and, without another word, passed by my desk, then disappeared behind me into his office. I didn't hear his door closing, he must have decided to leave it open.

I looked back at the file and lifted a hand to rub at the back of my head. Dress robes. I could go to Diagon Alley on my lunch and pick them up tomorrow at lunch. I nodded, satisfied with the plan, and shifted the folder of travel plans to the side so I could read more about the import deals for broomstick wood.

Soon enough, it was lunch time. I realized that Hermione was going to come and get me, but I wasn't ready to face her yet. There was no doubt that she would have heard about the rejected proposal and my subsequent flight from the flat, and I didn't want to talk about it. Harry was her best friend, and I didn't know what she would say about it.

Maybe I could get out to the floos before she got there? But no, too late. There was a brief knock at the outer door and then she opened it and stuck her head inside. Concern was etched in her face. "You ready for lunch, Ginny?" she asked softly.

I shook my head. "I'm going to stay here. I'm sorry, I just have so much to get done before I leave the country." Malfoy was a git, but he was providing me with a perfectly good excuse to avoid my friend. I felt a sharp stab of guilt at that thought, but I squashed it down as best I could.

"Are you sure? I was kinda hoping to talk to you."

Malfoy came out of his office then, stopping just behind me. He leaned over me, bracing himself with one hand on the back of my chair, and deposited a file in front of me. I could feel his fingers brush across my shoulder blade and I fought not to shift away from him. That was something Hermione would notice. "Here's the-" He paused. His hair brushed across my head, just above my ear, as he turned his face up to give her his attention. "Hello, Miss Granger. Is there something I can help you with?" he asked in what was possibly the most mildly haughty way I'd ever heard him speak. This was a show, I realized. He was purposely giving me an excuse to skip lunch with her. Why would he do that?

A spot of color appeared high on each of her cheeks. "I came to see if Ginny was ready for lunch," she replied with an air of forced politeness.

"I'm afraid I need Miss Weasley to finish this up first." His statement was almost a challenge.

"I- I see," she floundered.

"I'll see you on Sunday night at dinner," I told her, pasting a smile on my face.

"Right. I'll see you then." She narrowed her eyes in thought and then left the room, closing the door behind her.

I was unable to stop the big sigh of relief that rushed out as soon as she left. Malfoy didn't say anything else, but he straightened and left through the outer door, pausing in the doorway to regard me silently for a moment on his way out. When he came back about an hour later, he brought a steaming paper cup and two sweet rolls on a plate that he deposited on the corner of the desk before passing through to his office again.

I stared at the food for a moment, then looked over my shoulder to where he was just sitting down at his own desk. He looked back, cold gray eyes challenging me to say something. "Thank you," I said after a moment and he nodded curtly at me.

That evening, I got dinner at the cafeteria before going back to the Summer House for the night. I hid in the guestroom for the entire evening, worried that someone would floo me. I was simultaneously relieved and just a little disappointed that no one bothered me.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for the comments! :D**

Hermione caught up to me the following morning while I was eating breakfast at the Ministry. I didn't want to spend a whole lot of money on groceries, since I was only going to be staying at Luna's house for the next couple of days, until I left the country for a week. I wasn't sure what I was going to do on Saturday and Sunday morning, but I would deal with that later.

"Ginny," I heard her say, and my heart sank as she came into view, sitting down beside me. "Ginny, what's going on?" she asked gently. She was worried about me and it looked like she had been sleeping only marginally better than I had.

I stared at her, trying to formulate an answer. "I don't want to talk about it," seemed a bit rude, especially given her concern for me, but it was starting to look like I was going to have to say it. She sat there with an expectant look on her face, I was going to have to say something.

"Ah, Miss Weasley," I heard the familiar smooth voice break in from behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder, and the blond-haired aristocrat was standing there, gray eyes sweeping over me in a fashion I was getting used to. "If you'll excuse us, Miss Granger, I am in need of my _assistant_."

I gave my friend an apologetic look and stood. I felt his hand come up and hover just over the small of my back, so close but not actually touching me, as he gestured toward the lift. When we got to the office, he had a memo for me to dictate and send off to its destination before we both settled at our respective desks to work.

There was no indication that he knew he was saving me from a potentially uncomfortable or unpleasant conversation, but there was no way he couldn't have known. Coincidence didn't stretch that far.

It wasn't too much later when I was sitting at my desk, jotting notes with my quill when a purple Ministry memo came through the slot in the door. I stood and went over to retrieve it. It had both my name and Malfoy's name on it, and I unfolded it to read.

"Mr. Malfoy," I said urgently, crossing to his open door. "Mr. Malfoy?" I looked up from the paper to see him peering at me over a pair of half-moon spectacles.

"Yes, Miss Weasley?" he asked, taking off the glasses and placing them on his desk. "What is it?"

I crossed the room and handed him the memo and took my wand from my pocket to cast a locking charm on the outer door. When I turned back, he had finished reading and rose to come around to my side of his desk to perch on it in that casual manner that said he owned it. "Hermione said this happens sometimes," I told him uneasily, turning to hoist myself onto the dark wood desk top to sit as well. There was a moment where I wondered if I should really be sitting on his desk, but then I reasoned that he sat on my desk all the time. He certainly didn't seem to mind.

"Yes, this has always happened from time to time," he said, a note of reassurance in his voice. "Likely it's just a rogue cursed object clattering noisily about the corridor."

The memo had said that it would be wise to remain behind closed doors until further notice. According to Hermione, that meant anything from a cursed object loose in the halls like Malfoy had said, to someone running out of Law Enforcement a couple of floors up. I rubbed my hand uneasily across the back of my head.

"Just relax now, I'm sure they'll have it put to rights in no time." Was that... a warm tone in his voice? I cast a look over to him where he was posed on the edge of my desk. He really did look like he was posing and I started to giggle. I couldn't help it. He turned his cold eyes to me, one eyebrow quirking. "Something amuses you, Miss Weasley?"

"You do," I answered, snorting as I tried to stop. "You're posing like you think someone's going to come along and take a picture."

He watched me and after a moment, his mouth twitched. "I suppose I am," he conceded, surprising me into stopping laughing. "Old habits, my dear girl."

"Do you ever smile, Mr. Malfoy?" I asked curiously.

"Very rarely. My father didn't approve of public displays of emotion. He said it 'weakened us as men. You've got to keep them guessing, Lucius.'"

I looked up at him, surprised that he had answered me so candidly. "I'm sorry," I said before I could stop myself. My childhood had been full of emotion- laughter, tears, yelling; I couldn't imagine forcing solemnity on a child like that. Both pale eyebrows rose; he was as surprised I'd said it as I was.

I slid to the floor and turned my attention to the outer room where my work was waiting for me. "I should probably get some work done, who knows how long this is going to take."

He stood as well and was about to answer me when there was a noise at the door. It was... opening. I could see the doorknob turning. He moved quickly in front of me, one hand coming around to my rest on my hip to make sure I was well behind him, the other pointing his wand at the door.

I braced my own hand on his arm, peering around him with my wand out as well. I could feel the flex of tension in his muscles, both of us were almost tense enough to shatter.

It was only Harry. My breath rushed out in a relieved sigh.

"Mr. Potter," Malfoy greeted in that exceedingly arrogant manner he reserved for those he liked the very least, I'd seen it a couple of times yesterday when other people had come in to demand some of his time. "Do you _really_ think that you'll find whatever you're looking for, here?"

"I just wanted... to check on Ginny," he said, sounding a little uncertain.

"Surely you recognize that Miss Weasley and I are _more_ than capable of defending ourselves. After all, you have first-hand knowledge of how competent the both of us are in a fight." I could feel his muscles loosen. Harry wasn't a threat.

"Ah, right. I'll... I'll see you later, Ginny." He gave me a look like he expected me to say something. When it became clear that I wasn't going to, he backed out, shutting the door behind him.

In the silence, I became very aware of Malfoy's fingers pushing into my hip and my hand on his arm. I dropped my hand as though I'd been burned and stepped away from him. "Why did you put me behind you?" I asked, drawing myself up to face him. "I _am_ more than capable with a wand."

He turned to me, one eyebrow lifting. "I was raised with manners, my dear girl. A gentleman always puts himself between a lady and possible danger. I, unlike Mr. Potter, am more than aware of your _considerable_ ability to defend yourself." He stepped forward until my nose almost brushed his chest and I had to put my head back to look into his face. His eyes searched mine for a moment. "I don't know what he did, Miss Weasley, and it's not my place to speculate, but I imagine he was motivated with your interests in mind."

"And that's exactly what the problem was," I snapped. Color rushed into my face when I realized exactly what I'd just said and who I'd said it to. "I'm... Back to work." I spun from him and moved quickly back to my own desk. I was mortified. Lack of sleep was the only excuse for what had just happened, but I somehow didn't think Harry would look too kindly at me discussing our relationship problems with Malfoy. I wasn't looking at myself too kindly for it, either.

I became aware that he was still watching me. I looked over my shoulder at him, my eyebrows raised in question. "What?" I asked after a while.

"I know what it's like to have your dreams forcibly taken away from you," he said, so quietly I could barely hear him. "I know what it's like to have those you love abandon you because they don't understand." There was something so intensely real about him just in that moment. Something unguarded, something completely honest.

I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off. "I'm... sorry. My actions eight years ago were... inexcusable." He looked over me. "You're still young enough to have new dreams."

I spoke without thinking. "So are you, Mr. Malfoy." I could feel the hot rush of blood in my cheeks again, but I refused to look away.

He gave me a rare smile, his entire face transforming at once. He looked younger, somehow, and I was hit with just how handsome he truly was. There'd been a lot of talk and giggles from the other girls when I was in school about how good looking the elder Malfoy was, but I hadn't really seen it. Now, though... "Thank you," he told me sincerely. "Is there anything outside of the Ministry that you need to attend to before the weekend?"

Robes, I remembered suddenly. I hadn't been able to get to Diagon Alley yesterday to order my dress robes. I nodded.

"As soon as we're cleared to leave, take the rest of day off," he instructed me briskly.

"Are you joking?"

"I'm quite serious. Just remember, my dear girl, precisely twenty past eleven." The haughty mask slipped easily over his face again, like the warm smile and vulnerable honesty had just been a bit of imagination.

I turned back to my work. A short time later, there was another memo saying that everything was back to normal and we could proceed with the rest of the day. I gathered my things together and stepped up to the inner door. "I'm going now. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

He was seated again as well and he looked up at me over his reading glasses. "You're welcome, Miss Weasley." There wasn't even a hint of condescension or innuendo.

I went out to the floos and traveled to Diagon Alley. I arranged for new dress robes and visited with George while I was waiting for them to be ready. He merely asked, "Are we talking about it, Ginny?"

I answered, "Not yet."

He accepted that, and then proceeded to make me laugh like only he could. I picked up my new robes when they were ready and ate dinner at the Leaky Cauldron before heading back to Luna's cozy little house. A day. I had all of Saturday to figure out what I was going to say to everyone, what I was going to say to Harry.


	7. Chapter 7

Saturday and Sunday morning were spent with George. He had a date Saturday night with Angelina, it was nice to see him getting out like that, even though it made me painfully aware of the uncertainty of my relationship with Harry. It had been three days since I'd really even spoken to him, and I still had no idea what I was going to say, or even what I was going to do.

I had a lot of time to think. Harry and I had a lot of good times, a lot of happy memories. I loved him, and I had for a very long time. But. Would I be able to get past his habit of making decisions that involved me, without me? Especially if he continued to see nothing wrong with what he'd done? When I'd told him about not being able to play Quidditch anymore, his very next statement had been, "You'll find something else." That made my anger start up again. Of course I would find something else! The ability to move on in the future didn't detract from the very difficult time I was having right now. He didn't understand. Even Malfoy understood. That was a very depressing thought, the idea that Malfoy understood something so important to me better than my own boyfriend did.

Needless to say, by the time George and I Apparated out to The Burrow on Sunday, I was a bundle of mixed, highly charged emotions. Usually he was one of the first people there, but he'd agreed to wait with me for a little while to give other people a chance to arrive before us. We were, in fact, the last to arrive- even Harry and Teddy were already there, and Mrs. Tonks always took a while to relinquish her grandson.

Harry was staring at me as I took a seat on the sofa next to Luna. "How are you feeling?" I asked her.

"Very well, thank you," she replied with a soft smile. "I got plenty of rest and my classes on Friday went very well."

Sirius was sitting on her other side, of course, in fact she was leaning back against his side and his arm was around her waist, his hand protectively splayed across her still-flat belly. He bent down to kiss the top of her head. "I'm just glad you're safe now, love," he told her softly. They were almost obnoxiously sweet together. She'd pulled him out of the portal in June and they'd been married in August and he was just so completely captivated by her.

"How are you?" Hermione asked me from across the room, where she was sitting beside Harry. "How's your head?"

All attention focused on me. It was a safe bet that everyone now knew exactly the extent of my head injury. There weren't exactly a lot of secrets in my family; if someone knew something, everyone probably did.

I rubbed the back of my head. "Mostly better. It still hurts from time to time, but that's to be expected."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Bill asked lightly. He was specifically asking why I hadn't told him. He was the oldest, he was the one we all went to for advice. Or we had, but lately he'd had a lot less time available. He had his own family now.

He had been at the hospital with me, most of the family had. They always came out to watch my games if they could, schedules permitting, they were very proud of me. I'd had the opportunity to tell them then, and I hadn't. "It hadn't really sunk in yet," I replied quietly. "I kept hoping someone would come and tell me they'd made a mistake and I could go back to practice in a week or two."

"And now you're working for Malfoy," Ron broke in, disapproval clear in his voice. "How's that going?"

"He's not so bad," I answered without thinking. You could have heard a pin drop. "I mean, he's very arrogant, but he's not nearly as bad as I thought he'd be."

"You let me know if he gives you a bad time, Ginny," my dad told me. "I'll sort him out." That was exactly what I was afraid of. Dad had worked very hard for a long time to get where he was, and I couldn't let him throw it away over the arrogance of one man.

"So," Percy said after a moment. "Looking forward to Canada?"

I glared at him. I didn't forgive and forget nearly as easily as George and Bill did. "Not especially," I replied.

"How long are you going to be gone for?" Harry asked. There was a heavy expectancy to his question, even though he tried to keep his voice light.

"A week," I answered, not looking at him.

Mum came in from the kitchen just then. She'd been listening to us talk, of course she had, and she was brandishing her wooden spoon as though it was something a lot more substantial. She opened her mouth to say something, but Luna looked around herself as if noticing all of us for the first time.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, extricating herself nimbly from her husband and practically jumping to her feet. "I'm pregnant!"

From the look on Sirius' face, this perhaps wasn't exactly how he'd imagined the news coming out, but after a second he grinned and stood up beside her.

The living room was lost to noise and a sea of bodies. Everyone wanted to get close and hug her and exclaim over her belly and hug Sirius and congratulate him and I was forgotten on the sofa, and I loved my friend for it.

Dinner came shortly after that and, mercifully, conversation had shifted away from me and to the newlyweds. In addition to the baby, everyone wanted to know what had happened with Alistair Clark, the man who'd been attacking her and Sirius. Harry was able to fill in some of the pieces of that as well, and I was left to pick at my dinner in silence.

George leaned over to me from his place on my left. "If they finish with this, I'll bring up my date," he promised quietly under the cover of the other conversations going on. "You know Mum will be tickled about that."

I smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you," I whispered, and he nodded.

Dinner was eaten, pudding was served, and then everyone retired to the living room. Harry had to leave after a while, Mrs. Tonks was expecting Teddy. We still hadn't really had a chance to talk, and I was mostly relieved. I still had no idea what I was going to say to him, and now I had another... week. I had a full week to figure things out. Hopefully some time away from, well, everything, would help.

Sirius and Luna had to leave as well, they both had to teach in the morning. Mum gave them extra hugs and promises to start knitting baby things soon.

Bill and Fleur left with Victoire. Just before they flooed out, Bill pulled me close and whispered, "You know where I live if you need to talk."

"But you have more important things going on," I whispered back, trying not to sound petulant.

He pulled away, gripping my shoulders and looking seriously down into my eyes. "You're my baby sister," he told me quietly. "I always have time for you." He gave me a gentle shake. "When you get back we'll go to lunch, just the two of us. Right?" he prompted, after I didn't answer right away.

"Right," I replied, and he hugged me again.

Percy and Audrey left a little while later, and then it was down to Mum, Dad, Ron, Hermione, George and I. Hermione and Ron were living there, so George and I were really the only ones left visiting. I checked the time. It was still a little too early for me to be heading out to the Ministry, but maybe I could go and sit in the cafeteria or something. I had all of my luggage with me, waiting just beside the fireplace. I certainly wouldn't be late then.

I usually left considerably earlier, because I took Teddy home with Harry and then went back to our flat. I could leave now, but Mum was standing beside my suitcase, and if I went over to get it she'd probably remember she wanted to talk to me. Weren't they usually in bed by now?

"Where are you staying now?" Mum asked gently, but I could see her eyes starting to flash like they did when she was angry. She was standing beside the fireplace from where she'd said goodbye to Percy and Audrey.

"Luna's old place," I replied quietly.

"And you didn't even think to tell anyone? We've been worried sick!"

"She and Sirius knew." I kept my tone light, I did not want to get into a yelling row with my mum before I had to go and face Malfoy.

"And you're leaving the country for a week, when were you going to tell us that?"

"I told you tonight, didn't I? And it's not like you didn't already know." If Percy knew, which he did because he worked in the same department, Dad knew. If Dad knew, Mum knew. Everyone knew.

"And you've been avoiding your best friend," she continued, clearly on a roll. Even George bringing up his date wasn't going to put her off this now.

"I've been busy. I had to get ready to go out of the country, both at work and all of the things I needed to do outside of work."

"You found the time to visit with your brother," she accused, pointing at George. "You could have taken half an hour and flooed Hermione." Neither one of them were looking at me, and I didn't blame them.

"I told her I'd see her tonight."

Hermione nodded and was about to agree with me, I think to save me from Mum's wrath, but she didn't get a chance to.

"And you haven't spoken to Harry since you left on Wednesday." And there it was. Ever since Mum had found out Ron and Harry were friends back when they were first years, she'd been hoping I'd make him an official part of the family. That hope had grown when I'd been rather obvious that I fancied him, and had magnified exponentially to the point of being a full-blown expectation when Harry and I had first gotten together when I'd been in my fifth year and he, his sixth. And now we were living together, she'd practically already started writing out the invitations to our inevitable wedding.

Except now I'd thrown a wrench into things. Harry had asked me to marry him and I'd said no and now I wasn't even staying at the flat with him.

I stood up, the temper that I'd inherited from her was coming up as well. "That's not really any of your business, is it?" I snapped at her. Bill and I were the only ones out of all of the kids who dared directly stand up to her. Bill was laid back, but firm and resolute, a lot like Dad. I was too much like her.

"It affects all of us, doesn't it?" she retorted, her voice raised now. She wasn't quite yelling, not yet, but she'd get there.

"I don't see how. You're not the one who was living with him, are you?"

"Was?" She was yelling now. "Was? Have you gone and broken up with him and just decided not to tell the poor boy?"

"Again, none of your business!" So I yelled too.

"And you thought you'd just leave the country without bothering to tell him what was going on?"

"He already knew! He still knows! He doesn't have any more information than he did before this afternoon!"

"You're his girlfriend, you're practically engaged, don't you think he deserved to hear it _from you_?"

"We're not engaged!" I exploded.

"And why not?" she demanded.

"How is that any of your business?"

"He's family, Ginevra!"

"If he's already family, then why are you so bent marrying us off?"

"I just want the two of you to be happy!"

"If we were happy, do you really think he would have walked out of the flat that night?"

"You left!"

"He left first! Just like he always does!"

There was a sharp rap at the door, like someone was... Striking it with the solid head of a walking stick. My heart sank. There was no way Malfoy didn't hear us arguing. Merlin, the Diggorys probably heard us arguing.

"Who's coming to the door at this hour?" Mum wondered, still snapping a bit.

"That'll be for me. I'm... Leaving. I'll see you all when I get back." I marched smartly over to where my case was and picked it up before striding from the room, taking the cloak that had been resting on top of it and wrapping it around me.

When I opened the door, Malfoy stood there, walking stick raised as though he was just about to rap on the door again. He looked down at me and I stared up at him defiantly. I knew what I looked like when my temper was up, I got all flushed and my eyes flashed just the way Mum's did. He looked over me and then wordlessly offered me his arm. I took it, and together we walked out of the garden. He didn't say anything about the old Wellington boots and rusted cauldrons discarded all about. I could hear Mum continuing to shout from the house, I caught something about the cheek of that man showing up here, but then he Disapparated us and it was blissfully silent.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: GoldenFawkes, I totally thought about those two things. :D The Ministry's just finished having a Good Ol' Boys type of situation, so they haven't quite caught up with *cough* HR standards. And Quidditch paid Ginny more than she's getting at the Ministry, but it still wasn't very much because she's still a rookie.**

**And now... Off to Ottawa!**

I expected him to say something, considering his crack about the timeliness of my generation, but he was oddly silent as we walked through the ornate black gate and up the long drive to where Malfoy Manor stood silhouetted against the dark sky. There were no old boots or cauldrons sitting on the immaculate lawn by his front door.

The door was opened for us and a house elf stood there. "Master's luggage is sitting by the fire," the house elf squeaked and Malfoy nodded at her curtly.

We walked through a clutter-free hall and into a nearby room where two suitcases were sitting by the fire. I bit back something about not needing an extra trunk for his hair supplies, it wasn't really his fault that I was angry and he was still my boss.

I realized I was still holding his arm and I dropped it quickly, smoothing my hand down over my cloak. "Is that it?" I asked before I could stop myself.

His eyebrow quirked, that was the show of condescending amusement just before his lips twitched, I had come to realize. He wasn't given to the grand displays of emotions that my family was, but his face was just as expressive, if a lot more subtle. "Yes," he replied evenly. "Are you ready to leave?"

"It's a bit late to be asking that now that we're already in your front room or whatever this room is."

There was the twitching of the corners of his lips. He managed both suitcases and a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. "British Ministry of Magic," he said clearly, and then he was gone in the flare of green flames.

I clutched my case to myself nervously before doing the same. When I got to the other side, he was standing there with his hand extended to help me out. "Thank you," I said automatically as I took it and stepped out of the fireplace.

He dropped my hand and picked up his second piece of luggage again and then we were headed toward the lifts. We went up to Level Two. I had no idea where we were going, but Malfoy seemed to. Tucked away through a small broom closet opposite my dad's old office was another lift, this one not nearly as grand or ornate as those in the center of the building. He gestured for me to step through and then he followed me. A short trip up and the doors opened into a small garage, where a Ministry car was waiting for us.

He opened the rear door for me and handed me in, passing the suitcases to me before he got in as well, settling himself beside me. I knew that the cars would expand as necessary to fit as many people as they needed to, but he was close enough to me that his thigh brushed mine. I stared at it for a moment, debating the merits of saying something, but I really wasn't up for the potential outcome of that.

The car started to move, driven by a very unobtrusive wizard up front. I decided to address the sleeping dragon in the car with us. "You didn't have a lot of yelling in your home when you were growing up, did you?"

He looked over at me, both eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. "No," he answered after a short time. "My father relied very heavily in corporal punishment instead."

I nodded. "We got yelled at more than anything, but there were a few times Dad had to spank one of us."

"Never you, though, I imagine."

I looked at him sharply. How did he know that? "No," I replied quietly.

"Miss Weasley, as parents we think we know exactly what is best for our children because, of course, we have already gone through that stage of life. Certainly, when the children are younger, it's true. Don't touch the stove when it's on, don't fly your broom after dark. It's easy to forget that when the child is an adult, they may, in fact, know better than we do."

I bit my lower lip to keep my mouth from flying open in astonishment. He'd just... defended my mum. To my face. It took a moment before I'd recovered from the surprise enough to say, "I'm really tired of people making decisions for me and thinking they have my best interests at heart."

"It should cheer you to know, then, that my designs on you are purely motivated by my own selfish interests." This was the first time he'd directly brought up _that thing_ he'd mentioned the first day I'd worked for him. And I laughed. Slowly, almost reluctantly, a smile crept across his own face. "That's certainly a lot better than you reacted the first time I brought up the fact that I intend to seduce you." His head lowered toward mine, his mouth hovering just above my ear. "Dare I assume that means you are softening towards me, my dear girl?" he asked me in a low voice.

I shifted myself away from him on the long seat. "Not at all, Mr. Malfoy," I replied, but my voice lacked any real venom. "I'm just all argued out." My mood had considerably lightened, though. Had Malfoy really cheered me up?

He made no move to follow me, which was good, because then I may have been very much ready to argue again.

Due to not having to deal with things like traffic and stoplights, it didn't take long before we were at King's Cross Station. Malfoy opened the door and climbed out, holding out his hand for our luggage and then again, even after all of our suitcases were sitting in the sidewalk beside him. I realized he was waiting for me. Even though there was a door on my side of the car.

I scooted along the seat and placed my hand in his, the dark leather of his glove still warm from the heated interior of the car. He helped me out and I stood beside him, blinking in the bright lights that lit up the outside of the large building.

"I don't think we'll need a trolley," he informed me.

I shook my head. I was more than capable of carrying my own suitcase. I was wearing Muggle jeans and a jumper under my cloak and he was wearing some sort of long black woolen overcoat, so the two of us would not draw too much attention moving through the train station.

I picked up my case and he picked up his and together we walked. The station was nowhere near as busy as it was during the day when the train left for and came from Hogwarts, but there were still a few people around. It wasn't hard to slip into the proper broom cupboard without being noticed, though.

"Bit close in here," I observed, my eyes scanning the shelves on the far wall. We were looking for a blue bucket that simply said, 'C' on it.

"There," he said, gesturing with his head to a higher shelf than I was going to be able to reach easily.

I eyed it for a moment, my eyes narrowing. "Well, that's a little awkward." I stated, looking up at it. "We can't all be tall, can we?" I looked at him. "Another smile, Mr. Malfoy?" I asked him, my eyebrows raised in mock disbelief at his expression. "Maybe you're softening towards me."

"Perhaps I am," he replied quietly, his cold eyes serious, and I had absolutely nothing to say to that. "Allow me." He placed his luggage gently on the floor and squeezed past me to get the bucket down from the high shelf.

I checked my watch. "We still have a few minutes." I took the bucket as he handed it to me. "Are you going to be able to manage with all of that?" I asked, gesturing to the cases by the door.

"I believe so," he answered with a hint of amusement. "It's less than I usually take with me."

"That doesn't surprise me. Did you forget the one for your hair products?" I couldn't help it.

He let out a short, surprised laugh. "My, my, Miss Weasley, that's the second time you've teased me in as many minutes," he drawled. "Or, dare I ask, are you actually flirting?" There was a glint in his gray eyes.

He was right, I realized, as a rush of heat filled my face. The argument with Mum had left me feeling a little rebellious and I was actually flirting. With _Malfoy_. And I had been ever since we entered the broom cupboard, something he had apparently picked up on.

My expression must have given him the answer he expected, because as he pushed past me again, he said, "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you."

I stiffened a moment later as I realized he was pressed up behind me, his chest and stomach fully against my back. One of his suitcases was tucked under his arm, and that hand closed firmly over mine, his fingers pressing between mine to connect to the bucket. I looked over my shoulder at him to ask just what the hell he thought he was doing, but he spoke before I could.

"I said I wouldn't hold your _shameless_ flirting against you, I made no such promise about myself." His voice was low and filled with promise and desperately hard to ignore.

And then came the weightless, twisting feeling of the port-key.

I felt solid ground beneath me and my feet slipped out from under me, landing me firmly on my backside in the ice-crusted snow. We were in a dark field, I realized, and it was colder than it had been in London. A gloved hand extended into my line of sight. Of course Malfoy didn't fall on his arse. He probably didn't even have a hair out of place.

I slipped my hand into his and let him draw me up. "No gloves, Miss Weasley?" he asked.

"Packed away, I didn't think we'd be outside much." My hands were stinging from my impact with the hard crust of snow, and I pulled away from him as soon as I was standing. I picked up my suitcase and took another look around.

"I believe we are behind the hotel," he told me and, after looking me over again, picked up his own luggage.

I let him lead the way to the door in the side of the high-walled building that took up one entire edge of the field. There were windows further up the wall, but they all had heavy curtains drawn across them.

It was nice and warm inside, for which I was grateful. There was a long hallway with no doors and a thick carpet with a diamond pattern, that opened into the lobby. The lobby was much the same as any of the hotels I'd stayed at when I'd gone away with the Harpies for games. Malfoy kept walking until he reached the counter.

"May I help you?" the concierge asked politely.

"Reservations for Weasley and Malfoy," he replied, depositing his luggage on the floor. That surprised me, I definitely hadn't changed the reservation to my name.

"Identification, please?"

I pulled my Ministry badge out of my pocket and deposited it on the counter beside Malfoy's.

"We'll need someone to take the luggage up for us," he stated in his haughty tone that clearly assumed whoever he was talking to was going to do exactly as he said.

As if summoned, a young man in a red uniform appeared behind me and held out his hand. "May I?"

I relinquished my suitcase to him and he put it on a trolley that was rather more elegant looking than the ones in King's Cross Station.

Malfoy finished checking us in and picked my badge up before I could take it. He handed it back to me along with the room key, the corners of his lips twitching as his fingers lingered on mine.

I snatched them away, resisting the urge to stick out my tongue at him.

"Our rooms are beside each other," he drawled as we walked over to where the concierge had indicated the lifts were. We were staying on the third floor.

I didn't say anything, and we rode up to the third floor with the bellhop in silence. He tipped the bellhop a couple of galleons just outside the first door, mine, and the young man walked away.

"You don't look ready for sleep, Miss Weasley," Malfoy observed. "Join me for a drink."

Part of me wanted to, which was a very good sign that none of me should. "No, thank you," I said firmly. "I think I'm just going to take a bath and call it a night."

His eyes swept over me again. "Let me know if you need help washing your back." And then he was walking away from me. I was still standing there, staring after him, when he reached his own door. He looked back at me and his eyebrow rose.

I quickly unlocked my door and pulled my suitcase into my room.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: whatisfske- Thank you, very much! I'm trying to do him justice. Avalon-Mist- Yeah, I would have too :D**

I was just finishing pulling my brush through my hair the next morning when there was a knock at the door. I crossed to it and opened it. It was Malfoy, of course. I gestured for him to come in and went back to stand in front of the long mirror with the brush. We didn't have anything scheduled for that moment, I think to give us a chance to get used to the time change. The first meeting was set for one that afternoon.

"You look well-rested," he observed, leaning casually against the wall just inside the door. He was wearing a pair of smooth-looking black trousers and a deceptively simple gray shirt and black waistcoat that cost, I was sure, more than my entire month's salary. His usual Ministry robes were nowhere in sight. One of Luna's notes had said that they were considerably less formal here. Robes were only worn for official happenings, but Malfoy was very proper and I was a little surprised he was appearing in public without them.

"I am, thank you," I replied. Surprisingly, I'd had a better sleep last night than I had any night since Wednesday.

"Take breakfast with me," he invited. "There's a dining room downstairs." When I hesitated, he offered me a charming smile. "One of the benefits of traveling for the Ministry is that they pay for all of the expenses."

"As if you couldn't afford to buy the hotel," I returned with a snort, and he looked amused. "Fine," I agreed. I finished brushing my hair and left it hanging loose. I stopped only to grab my handbag and when I slipped into my shoes, Malfoy went back to the door and held it open for me. In the hall, he offered me his arm and I took it automatically. "Why did you check us in yesterday?" I asked him as we waited for the lift. "I thought I was supposed to be handling all of that."

"The arrangements, yes," he replied. "However, I find I tend to get better results when actually dealing with people face-to-face."

"Because you like to be in control or because you're better at manipulation?" I asked without thinking. But there wasn't any bite in my tone, it was just a question.

"Both, I suppose," he admitted, an amused smile turning up his mouth.

I refrained from making another comment about how often he was smiling now, afraid that it would probably come across as flirtatious again. Or that it would probably be meant as flirtatious.

The lift arrived and we went down to the dining room. He pulled out my chair for me when we were shown to our table, and then lowered himself gracefully opposite me. We looked over the menu and ordered, and then we were left with our coffee to wait for the food.

"What do we have first, Miss Weasley?" he asked me as he set his mug down.

I pulled my diary out of my handbag and checked, even though I was fairly sure I already knew the answer. "The utterly pointless thing about the uniformity of cauldron bottoms," I replied. "I had to hear about it all last night, you know. And I'm going to be grilled on it when we get back." It was Percy's pet project and had been for a little while now. I was convinced that he'd been on it long enough that this was going to be an entirely useless meeting, but he was in the position of insisting that it get done.

His lips were twitching again, but then we were in public now and there were other people around us. "Yes, your brother is rather _passionate_ about it." He'd been one of the meetings Malfoy'd had on Thursday where I got to experience the fullness of the tone he used for people he didn't like.

"That's one word for it. I'm pretty sure the Ministry here is just humoring us about it. Speaking of the Ministry..." I ran my eyes down the page. "Dinner with the Minister tonight. You know, I'd probably be a bit more nervous about it if I didn't personally know our own Minister of Magic."

"What do you mean?" he asked, watching me steadily over his cup. He took his coffee black, which somehow didn't surprise me.

"During the war," I said lightly, closing the diary and returning it to its place so I could pick up my own coffee cup. "He was over for dinner a lot."

"I was practically turned out of my own home for Voldemort and you were dining with the future Minister of Magic. Now look where we ended up." His voice carried just a hint of bitterness.

"Yeah, we both ended up in Canada together." I took a drink of my coffee. "Except now you're my boss."

His eyebrow quirked. "Very good, Miss Weasley. I am _grateful_ to him for the employment opportunity, even if it was mostly motivated by the desire to keep an eye on me. It is, however, quite a demotion from the position I previously held at the Ministry."

Our food came out just then, bacon and eggs for both of us, with the addition of a bowl of porridge for him.

"What did you do?" I asked him curiously. "Besides giving the Minister quite a bit of money, I mean."

His lips were twitching again. He sounded immensely amused when he said, "I don't think it will surprise you that I didn't really do much at all. I had an office on level one and I took meetings where an 'official Ministry presence' was requested, but it was really rather an empty position."

"I'm not surprised."

"You will more than likely be pulled aside and not-so-subtly be asked about that."

"Asked about what?"

"My involvement, both in the Ministry and outside of it, in the war." He was serious now, his face absolutely clear of any emotion.

I shrugged. "That doesn't surprise me either," I replied, and had a bite of my very delicious bacon. The Minister had also told me as much, by memo, and had provided some statements that I might want to keep in mind to reply with. Keeping an eye on him or not, he was here on official Ministry business, and it was important that the wizards and witches we would be meeting with here took him seriously.

"I assume you have something appropriate to say." He tried to sound as though he really didn't care and he mostly succeeded. Only mostly, though.

"Why, Mr. Malfoy, I will tell the truth." One pale eyebrow lifted and I had to grin. "The extent of your involvement during the war is not known to me. I do know that you weren't held in Azkaban at the close of the war, that you were more than helpful in tracking down reluctant Death Eaters, and that you are a highly satisfactory boss." My grin widened. "You're definitely a lot easier to take than my coach was."

"Is that so, Miss Weasley?" he asked in that low voice that made my belly twinge, and there was a hint of dark promise in his eyes.

"Yes," I replied primly. "When you're not doing that."

He lifted his napkin to wipe his mouth and I saw the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile. When he'd schooled his face into a pleasant sort of blankness again, he lowered the cloth back to the table. "How are you adjusting?"

I sighed and took another bite of my food to delay answering. "It's difficult," I answered after I finally swallowed. "I'd be at practice right now, preparing for the match against the Montrose Magpies this weekend and instead I'm... here. And most of my family would rather focus on the fact that I haven't been staying at the flat with Harry for the past few nights instead of the heart-breaking reality that I will never play Quidditch again." I raised my eyes to his, giving him a fierce look. "I've been told that it's 'inadvisable to participate in casual games as well.'"

"I'm sorry," he simply said and pressed his hand on top of mine where it was sitting on the table and tightly clutching my knife, just for a moment. The words and the gesture seemed sincere. "Have you been on a broom since?"

I shook my head. It was strange how he knew the important questions to ask. "No. My broom is still at the training pitch in Wales. I'm used to flying every day and I haven't now for over a week."

"If you can't face it, I'll arrange to have your broom brought to the office when we get back."

My eyebrows flew up with surprise. "You don't have to do that."

"I don't," he agreed. "But I will."

He'd asked me personal questions, and now it was my turn. "How are things with Narcissa?" I was curious.

He eyed me for a moment, and I seriously thought he was going to tell me it was none of my business. "Surprisingly better, now that we're not living together. We both care for Draco very much and some things are easier now that we're not constantly tripping over each other."

"And some things aren't."

"Quite." He paused, his gray eyes searching mine. "You're not going back to him." It wasn't a question. Malfoy didn't ask a lot of questions, I'd noticed that about him.

I shook my head. "No," I said, almost a whisper. I'd come to the harsh realization last night. Harry just didn't understand, about a lot of things, and that was too big of a hurdle for me to get over. He still thought what he'd done was the right thing to do, and I fundamentally disagreed.

We ate for a while in silence. When I was finished, I pushed my plate away. "Well," I started brightly. "Look at us chatting over a meal. It's almost like we were friends."

"Indeed," he replied as his eyebrow quirked. "But then, if we were friends, you'd call me Lucius."

The waiter appeared with the cheque just then, as though he'd been summoned. Malfoy settled the bill and offered me his arm for the walk back to our rooms.

"You know," I told him as we walked along, "when I first took the job, the Minister just said, 'Malfoy.' I thought I'd be working for Draco."

"Disappointed?" he drawled, and I had to snicker.

"Not at all," I replied. "Canada with Draco? I don't think so. There's no way that would have worked out without some hexing on my part." I remembered who I was talking to, and I could feel the heat rising in my face. This was Draco's dad.

"He does have a hard time knowing when silence would be more prudent."

I snickered again. Draco's dad had just told me that Draco was mouthy. This moment right here made the entire trip worth it.

"And coming here with me, not as _dreadful_ as you thought it would be?" he asked, a touch of coyness in his voice.

"Oh, now who's flirting?" I returned swiftly. We came to a stop in front of the lift. "Or are you just fishing for compliments?"

"Both," he answered smartly. "Of course, I wouldn't have to 'fish' if you were a little more free with them."

I laughed at that, I couldn't help it. "Not as dreadful as I thought it would be," I admitted. "And what about you?" I asked as we stepped through the sliding doors. "You certainly haven't praised any of my better attributes."

"Like your temper?" was the quick rejoinder. I opened my mouth for a temper-fueled retort, but he continued before I could. "Or your hair, as soft as silk." He stepped into me, so close that my shoulder bumped against his chest, and lifted a strand of my hair between his fingers. He raised it to his nose and inhaled deeply. "It smells divine, like strawberries and sweet cream." His voice had dropped again, and I felt that twinge, deep in my belly. "Or your eyes." I closed my eyes, he was close enough that I could feel his lips brushing against my ear now. "Your beautiful, expressive eyes. You show your whole world in them, my dear girl."

The lift dinged, indicating that we had reached our destination. My eyes flew open as we were admitted to our floor, and I quickly stepped out, away from him. My heart was thumping rapidly in my chest. This was... Not happening, I told myself sternly.

I heard him walk out behind me. "Do you wish to sight-see, or shall I just collect you when it's time to go down to the floo?" He definitely sounded amused.

I didn't dare look back at him. "I'll meet you down by the floos at a quarter to one," I informed him, my voice only a little higher than normal.

"Very good," he replied in a very knowing tone.

He was beside me as we came to my door. I remembered my manners. "Thank you for breakfast," I told him.

"The pleasure was mine."

I couldn't get in my door fast enough. It shut behind me and I leaned heavily against it. No more. No more flirting, no more personal chats, just no more.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely review!**

The meeting that afternoon went much the way I thought it would. I met Malfoy by the floos, both of us in our Ministry robes. I'd picked mine up at the same time I'd picked up my dress robes. They were just normal robes- I was in navy blue and Malfoy was, of course, in expensively tailored black- but they had the Ministry symbol emblazoned above the left breast. We flooed to the "Canadian Ministry of Magic," him first, and then me, and after a moment's hesitation, I gave him my hand to let him help me out. There was a small contingent of people waiting for us from their Department of International Cooperation.

Luna hadn't been exaggerating about it being less formal here. The group meeting us were dressed in robes, but there were other witches and wizards who passed by, the wizards in collared shirts and ties and the witches dressed much the same way I was under my robes; blouses and neat skirts. There were even some witches wearing trousers. Ever the aristocrat, I could feel Malfoy bristling beside me and I had to stifle a giggle at his reaction.

Introductions were made and he was appropriately self-assured and charming, although he bristled again when he was called Lucius without his express invitation to do so. And when, as we walked down to the appropriate office for the meeting, I teased him in an undertone that I would suggest to Minister Shacklebolt that he change the dress code for our own Ministry, he gave me such a withering glare that I had to turn my giggle into a coughing fit.

The meeting was a superfluous formality. Malfoy went over the things Percy thought were important and everyone agreed politely and that was that. I didn't even have much in the way of notes to make. We walked back through the corridors to the floos and were back at the hotel within 45 minutes.

I spent a small portion of the rest of the afternoon napping, and then got dressed for dinner. I decided to wear one of the dresses I'd brought instead of formal robes, simply because I knew that's what everyone else was going to be wearing.

The Ministry was sending a car for us and I was to meet Malfoy in the lobby. As time dragged on and he didn't show up, I went back up to the door one down from mine and knocked on it. It opened, and Malfoy stood inside, looking very disgruntled. "Come in, Miss Weasley," he invited somewhat crossly.

I went inside. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"I feel half-dressed without my robes. I can't wear the shirt without the waistcoat, and I can't wear the waistcoat without the robes."

"You didn't wear your robes to breakfast," I observed.

He lifted an eyebrow at me. "This is dinner. One must _always_ appear properly dressed at dinner."

"Are you... whinging?" I asked, trying my best not to laugh at him.

He leveled a scowl at me. "I do not whinge."

"Of course not," I demurred. "So wear the robes."

"No one else will be wearing robes." He was clearly out of his element and he looked a little lost. "You're not wearing robes," he accused me, catching sight of the dress under my cloak.

"I'm not. But if you do, everyone will just think it's a part of your British charm." I gave him a reassuring smile. "You're quite elegant in your robes."

He looked at me for a long moment, then took the questioned garment off his of bed and pulled it on. Not his Ministry robes, just ordinary black ones. Well, ordinary for him.

"Better?" I prompted.

"Yes," he replied shortly, drawing himself up to his full height.

"Very good," I told him, and his lips twitched. "Now let's get downstairs, the car is probably waiting for us."

"Indeed." I opened the door before he could get there and slipped outside, which earned me a look of censure. "Elegant, Miss Weasley?" he questioned as he offered me his arm.

"Did I say that?" I asked innocently, taking it.

"I believe it was, 'quite elegant.'"

"That doesn't sound like something I would say," I replied lightly.

"What would you say?" he drawled.

I looked over at him. "When will you stop trying to drag compliments out of me?"

"When you start giving them freely."

"You'll be waiting a very long time, Mr. Malfoy."

He bent his head down quite close to mine and murmured, "I rather doubt that, Miss Weasley." He probably knew exactly what his voice did to me when he did that.

The car was waiting for us when we got back downstairs. Malfoy handed me inside and then slid in next to me. Again, he was close enough that his thigh was touching mine, and again I didn't bother moving away. I resolutely refused to flirt with him. _Anymore,_ my conscience pricked at me.

It wasn't long before we were at a mansion that I assumed was the Minister's home. Malfoy assisted me out again. We went up to the large front door and, after giving me a questioning look, he raised his walking stick and rapped sharply on the door.

In a moment, a tall woman with short brown hair answered the door. "Ah, you must be Lucius Malfoy," she greeted him, offering him her hand. "I'm Stacy Wendell." The Canadian Minister of Magic.

He lifted her hand to his lips. _That_ British charm. "Please, call me Lucius." His eyebrow quirked, and I knew the unspoken rest of the sentence was, 'because you will, anyway.'

"And you must call me Stacy," she instructed, and turned to me. "And you are...?"

"This is my assistant, Miss Ginny Weasley."

"Just Ginny," I told her.

"Of course," she said, offering me her hand as well, and her gaze seemed to sharpen as I slipped my hand from Malfoy's arm to shake with her.

"Please, come in," she offered, moving back out of the way.

I took Malfoy's arm again, and we stepped into her house. It wasn't nearly as opulent as the little bit I'd seen of Malfoy Manor, but it was still very impressive. Certainly better furnished- and constructed- than the modest home I'd grown up in.

The Minister had someone take our cloaks and then showed us into a large front room where guests were milling about, talking and eating hors d'oeurves. The Minister followed closely behind us. "Lucius, you must meet..." and I slipped my hand from his arm as she led him away.

I pasted my best friendly expression on my face and took a flute of what looked to be champagne as a waiter passed by with a tray.

A wizard approached me, probably about Percy's age. "You must be Ginny Weasley," he announced.

"I am," I answered with a smile.

"You play for the Holyhead Harpies."

I fought to keep the pleasant, neutral expression. How did he know that? "I did. I was injured, I can't play anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized, sounding quite sheepish.

"Fred's a big fan," said a second wizard, coming to join us. I felt a pang at the name and I struggled to keep it off my face. Now I was the one out of my element. Someone with my dead brother's name wanted to talk about Quidditch.

We kept chatter superficial. We talked about the weather and the differences in the Ministry of Magic buildings between the British one and the Canadian one- which was, apparently, built partially above-ground.

And then we were seated for dinner; Malfoy and I were separated from each other. He quirked his eyebrow at me in a question and I gave him a small smile to let him know I was ok. I was still a little unsettled, but no one else was going to know that.

Dinner was served, and conversation flowed freely around us, until the Minister started asking me rather pointed questions. "How lovely that you were able to join us as well, Ginny," she told me. "Does Lucius really need an assistant, though? I would think that he could handle most of your duties himself."

"That may be," I replied, my tone clearly indicating that I rather doubted it, which caused a titter up and down along the table. "But we do things rather more formally in Britain. For example, I think the Ministry would shut down if everyone showed up one day without official robes on." I made sure the last comment was self-deprecating, and there was more laughter. "Everyone has an assistant, though. Except us assistants, of course."

"I understand that you also know Harry Potter," she continued, her eyes sharp and probing. And now we were going to talk about Harry. This evening was not turning out to be pleasant for me.

I balled up my hand into a tight fist under the table, but I made sure my expression was polite. "I do," I replied evenly. "He's like a family friend; he's one of my brother Ron's best mates. They were in the same year in school."

"And you know the British Minister of Magic very well? Kingsley spoke quite highly of you."

"Yes, he's dined with my family on occasion. He's far too busy now, of course," I offered with an apologetic smile.

"How did you come to your current job as an assistant?" Well, she sure didn't pull any punches. On the surface, it was just another polite question, but I highly doubted that anyone at the table didn't see it for what it was. How did someone as well-connected as me come to work as an assistant for a such a minor position as Malfoy's?

"The witch who filled the position before me is a dear friend of mine. She was quite suddenly unable to continue working at the Ministry. She, and the Minister, felt that I was competent enough to fill in for her on such short notice."

"What happened to her?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss that," I replied with another apologetic smile. It was none of her damn business why Luna couldn't work at the Ministry anymore.

"And you were conveniently available to do so?" Her questions were bordering on rude. She was lucky I wasn't Luna, because Luna would have told her so.

"As it so happened, yes. I played Quidditch professionally until I suffered severe brain trauma the weekend before this one. I was struck by a bludger, back here." I rubbed the back of my skull, which was starting to ache a little from the tension. "Ended my career before it really even got started, I'm afraid. I hadn't really figured out what I was going to do yet, and then I got an owl from Minister Shacklebolt. I've been working for Mr. Malfoy since last Wednesday."

Malfoy raised his glass to me in a silent toast and I smiled at him.

"I'm very sorry to hear about your injury," she said at last, and I guess that signaled that the inquisition was over, because conversation picked up around us again.

"Do you really call him, 'Mr. Malfoy' all the time?" Fred asked from my right.

"Of course," I replied.

"And he calls you...?"

"Miss Weasley." I smiled again. "I told you, we're very formal."

We made it through dinner and then there were cocktails in the front room afterward. I politely declined anything alcoholic on the basis that telling the Minister that she'd been a rude bitch during dinner because I was drunk was probably not the way to end the evening. Malfoy found me very quickly and gently took my elbow before he leaned toward me and murmured, "You seem ready to leave."

I nodded. I was very ready to leave.

"If you claim fatigue from the time change, we can leave right now," he instructed me.

I scanned the room for the Minister and found her standing in a group, socialising. I went over to her and politely waited for a pause in the conversation before I said, "It's been a very lovely evening, Minister, and I thank you very much. I'm afraid I'm still rather tired from the time change, however; I think it's time we headed back to the hotel."

"Of course, Ginny," she almost gushed. "You can floo from here, let me show you out. Excuse me half a second," she said to the people she'd been talking to, and led me and Malfoy, who'd been a few paces behind me, back out to the foyer. "It was very lovely to meet you both," she told us, shaking my hand first and then offering her hand again to Malfoy who, again, raised it to his lips. The man who had taken our cloaks brought them back out and showed us to a grand fireplace, where we quickly flooed back to the hotel.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: GoldenFawkes- Thank you! :D He definitely is, but she's trying to distance herself from him as much as she can.**

We were silent all the way up to our rooms. "Do you want to come in?" I asked as we stopped in front of my door. I was still very unsettled and I didn't want to be alone, even if Malfoy was the best I was going to get.

"I have Firewhiskey in my room," he suggested, and I nodded in agreement. We continued on to his door and he unlocked it and held it open for me to step inside.

When we were safely inside, I stepped gratefully out of my heels and dropped my cloak to puddle on the floor on top of them, my handbag on top of that. "What a bitch!" I exclaimed, causing Malfoy to smile.

"She was _very_ shrewd," he observed, walking over to where a decanter was sitting on the desk, filled with an amber liquid.

"She was rude. If Luna had been there, she'd have received a very blunt piece of Luna's mind."

"Mrs. Black does excel at that." He filled two glasses and came back to hand me one. There was a small circular table in the room with two chairs, and I took one of them, curling my feet up underneath me on the seat. "She was rude," he admitted as he perched on the edge of the desk. "I did rather enjoy when you told her it was none of her business what had happened to your friend."

"Well, it is none of her bloody business. If she's that concerned about it, she can read the damn paper like everyone else." I took a drink, enjoying the pleasant burn as it hit the back of my throat. "At least we won't have any meetings with her."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to just 'drop in' on one of our meetings," he told me. "She seems torn on whether you're here to keep tabs on a former Death Eater, or if you're my lover."

I snorted at that. "Yeah."

"I told her that I'm well-acquainted with your father."

"Right. With his fists, anyway." Apparently the courage from the Firewhiskey was mixing with the amount of champagne I'd had that evening and my tongue was a lot looser than it normally was. And right in that moment, I didn't care.

"Quite," he said after a moment. "Another piece of information she did _not _need to have."

"Probably a good idea." I paused and took another drink, and then looked across the room at him. He'd taken off his cloak and robes, though the rest of his clothing was still fully intact. "What's your problem with each other anyway? It's more than the whole pureblood, blood-traitor thing, it has to be."

"It is," he admitted. He crossed the room to sit in the chair opposite me, his drink still in his hand. He'd finished about a third of it, which was about how much I'd had. "Although that was the heart of it." He seemed to be studying the way the light from the lamp was refracting through his glass.

"So?" I prompted.

"We were in school for a few years together," he said at last. "I thought he was in love with my sister-in-law." He took a drink. "Ex-sister-in-law."

I peered at him. "Bellatrix?" There was no way I would believe that.

"Andromeda."

My jaw fell open. I gaped at him for a moment and then took a drink before he could chide me about my manners.

He noticed my reaction. "Indeed," he agreed. "Narcissa and I had been betrothed almost from birth, so naturally I thought it was my duty to do something about it. It just wouldn't do for Andromeda to form a relationship with someone like Arthur Weasley."

"Was he? I mean... They're, let's see... Andromeda is my third cousin, so Dad's her second cousin once removed?"

He lifted an eyebrow in silent question.

"The tapestry at Sirius' house," I answered a bit sheepishly. "We're on there now, Sirius had it restored."

"Looking back, I don't believe he was, no. But I thought he was, and I made it my singular purpose to drive him away from her in any way I could." A humorless smile crossed his face for just a moment before it was gone. "Not only was he a blood-traitor, but his family was _desperately_ poor, so he would never do. That altercation we had in the bookshop was not the first one."

"You're both very proud," I observed. "You and Dad."

"Indeed. And, of course, I've done all of those other _questionable_ things, so the feud between us has grown as the years passed."

"Do you regret it?" I asked quietly. I wasn't sure I wanted the answer, not really, but my mouth seemed to be running on its own.

"Which part?" His tone was just a touch rueful.

"Any of it? All of it?"

"A lot of it, yes. Some of it, no." He was studying his glass again. "It's very hard to look back at one's life and realize that a large part of it may have been a mistake."

"What happened this time? I mean, you went through this before, right? Voldemort went away, although he wasn't quite dead that first time around, and you made a very good show of being Imperius'ed and repentant. At least, it must have been a good show at first. You were kind of a bastard by the time I met you." I was very intently watching his face.

"Azkaban," he answered, the word heavy with unspoken meaning. "There were still Dementors when I was imprisoned there. And then I very nearly lost my son; having him was one of the few things in my life I can say with certainty was _not_ a mistake. Although I'm afraid I wasn't a terribly good father." He took another drink and was studying the movement of the liquid. "And I lost a good friend. He was a wizard I'd always respected and he'd been helping your side for years."

I rested my elbow on the armrest of the chair and leaned my temple against my knuckles, propping up my head as I looked at him. I was about to open my mouth to say something, but his eyes lifted up to me.

"You were very unsettled this evening."

I nodded. "I was. Of all of the places for someone to ask me about Quidditch, I didn't think it would come up here. From someone with the same name as... as the brother I lost in the war. And then the Minister had to go and bring up Harry."

"You certainly seem more _relaxed_ now." It sounded just the slightest bit like he was taunting me.

"I am. We're away from there, Firewhiskey helps." I met his eyes evenly. "One of the things about having a large family is that there's always someone else around. Always. Most of the time, I like to be around other people when I'm upset."

His lips curved up into a very satisfied smile and his eyes swept over me. "_Very_ good."

I eyed him for another moment. "Why? Why me, Lucius?" That was the first time I'd ever referred to him by his given name, but somehow it seemed right for the moment.

He drained his glass and got up and poured himself another one. I stared at his vacated seat, and I was beginning to think he wasn't going to answer the question when I heard, "Because you are full of life," very softly from behind me. More liquid sloshed into his glass again, presumably he'd drained it in one go before pouring himself another, and then he came around and sat across from me again.

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly, my eyes locking with his for a moment before I finished off the rest of my own drink.

"I would be lying if I said that revenge wasn't a part of it."

"Revenge against who? My dad? Narcissa?"

"Both." He set his glass gently in the middle of the table. "I can't imagine your father would be too pleased if his biggest rival seduced his only daughter."

"No, I've pretty much avoided telling any of my family about your... intentions because I don't want my dad to do anything that would get him fired." I lifted his glass and took a drink, then put it back down in the same spot. "And he would do something that would get him fired."

"Indeed. And Narcissa's pride would be rankled if I managed to take someone over half her age."

"Are you going to take me?" I asked, my lips curling up in amusement at his choice of words.

"Am I?" he asked me, his voice low, causing the twinge in my belly again. "I certainly mean to."

"And a Malfoy always gets what he wants?"

"Something like that." He lifted the glass and took a drink, and then set it between us again.

"What do you mean, I am full of life?"

"You are vibrant, Ginevra." It didn't surprise me that he used my formal name. "And I don't just mean your beautiful hair."

"What was it? Like silk?" I teased.

"Exactly so," he answered seriously. "You are full of life; you laugh when you're happy, you shout when you're angry, you become very strong and very vulnerable when you are sad."

"Most people do, when they don't have a complete bastard for a dad." It was a direct dig on his father and he didn't even reply to it. I was baiting him, just a little, just like he'd taunted me.

"Yes, but you shine with it. When you're happy, you spread happiness. When you're sad, I want to pull you into my arms and hold you until you smile. When you're angry, I want to shout along with you. You inspire me."

"Inspire you to what?"

"Live. Truly live, instead of just existing as a pale shadow of a man's life. I'd like to before I get too old to bother."

We sat for an untold amount of time, just looking at each other. "Why me?" he asked finally, echoing my question.

It was on the tip of my tongue to deny that I had any interest in him, but we both would have known it for the lie it was. Instead I had another drink. Was I going to answer him? Could I? "At first it was revenge, rebellion." Apparently, yes.

"And now?"

"Understanding. You understand me. When you asked me about my Quidditch accident, you asked the questions that were important."

"Is it enough? You need it, or you wouldn't have decided to leave _Harry_." His mouth twisted up in distaste at even saying the name. "But is it actually enough?"

"I don't know," I whispered, finally dropping my eyes from his. I stared at the glass we were sharing. "Part of me is tempted to pull off my dress right now and be across this table so that I could get you out of my system."

"You hated me on Wednesday."

"I did." I nodded emphatically.

"Less than a week ago. Have your feelings really changed so much in such a short time?" He asked more questions when he was being honest like this.

"Apparently so. You've given me something no one else has, something I'm apparently in need of." Honesty, even if it wasn't kind. "I think that you could help me get through all of these... changes in my life."

He was still watching me, his gray eyes were hovering at the edge of my field of vision. "I find I am almost sorry," he admitted. "The chase has been very _stimulating_."

"I am too. You probably deserve better at this point, than to be used to help me come to terms with my life. And I know I deserve better than to be used to help you come to terms with yours." I unfolded my legs and rose, smoothing the dress down my thighs. "I should go to my own room."

He stood as well and moved to me, running his hand through my hair and then down my back, stopping at the base of my spine to pull me against him. "We can use each other," he suggested. His free hand came up behind my head, his fingers tangling in my hair and gently moving my head back so I was looking up into his face.

"Not yet," I answered, staring up into his eyes. "I still have... Harry."

"Ah, the intrepid Mr. Potter. Still interfering in things even from the other side of the ocean." Something like a grimace moved across his face and was gone. "Do be aware that I will follow through on my intentions when you are no longer weighed down by your _obligations_." There was a dark promise in his eyes.

I gently disengaged myself from his grasp. "Consider me aware." I padded across the room and stooped to gather my cloak, shoes, and handbag. I didn't even bother to put my heels back on. "Goodnight, Lucius."

"Goodnight, dear Ginevra.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you for all the fantastic reviews! :D I super appreciate them. I'm having a lot of fun writing this and I'm glad that people are enjoying reading it!  
**

The rest of the week seemed to pass quickly. The next morning we were back to "Mr. Malfoy" and "Miss Weasley." The flirtation stopped, in fact most of the time we spent together seemed to be spent in silence now. It wasn't uncomfortable, not exactly, but it wasn't as easy as it had been Monday afternoon when I'd teased him about whinging.

There were a series of meetings, where I sat beside him with my notepad and quill ready to take notes. As he had said, the Minister dropped in to see what was going on a couple of times, and I was always careful to be polite to her, although she made it easier by not directly being rude again.

Lucius was endlessly charming to everyone he encountered, and I suspected more than one Canadian witch developed a bit of a crush on him. Not that I could blame them, really, he was showing them all his better side.

And then it was Saturday. We'd done a bit of sight-seeing throughout the week, but most of Saturday was spent getting ready. I had to pack, there were a few more souvenirs I wanted to pick up before we went back home, and then I had to get ready for the Gala.

I stared at myself in the mirror. I was ready to go, as least as ready as I was going to get. I was dressed, my hair was piled on top of my head. I was doing my best to ignore the way my heart was thudding in my chest. It was just like a ball. I'd been to balls before. _But never one with Lucius Malfoy_, came the unbidden thought.

There was a brisk knock on the door. I smoothed my dress robes down my thighs and went to the door to open it. There was Lucius, immaculate and, I had to admit, devastatingly handsome. His gray eyes swept over me, lingering on my bare neck. "I just need to get my cloak," I murmured, and pulled it down from the hook beside the door. It seemed a little silly getting a cloak on to floo from one place to another, but Mum had taught me to always take my cloak, because you never know what's going to happen.

He took it from me and settled it around my shoulders, his hand brushing against the back of my neck and raising goosebumps in its wake. He offered me his left arm, the silver snake-headed walking stick in his right. I hesitated for just a moment before tucking my hand into his elbow, then together we went down to the hotel's series of fireplaces.

He flooed first, and when I stepped through, he was waiting for me with his hand outstretched. I placed mine gingerly into it and he helped me step out of the fireplace. He kept possession of my hand, tucking it back into his elbow, and we walked down the crowded hall to the ballroom. We checked our cloaks and his walking stick, but not before he tucked the wand from within away in his robes.

We looked good together, I had to admit as I caught sight of us in one of the full-length mirrors lining the hall. He was perfect in his elegant black robes, not a strand of his long silver-blond hair out of place. My red hair stood out in sharp contrast, my pale blue dress robes soft and clingy.

He bristled when a young wizard asked me to dance. That wizard was followed by another one, and then another one, and a line of them until I realized it had been about two hours since I'd left Lucius' side. I excused myself from my dance partner and started to look around for him when a familiar well-manicured hand extended into my line of vision. "Dance with me, Miss Weasley."

He didn't wait for me to answer before pulling me into his arms. One hand settled at the small of my back, the other held my hand, pressing it into his shoulder, and I rested my free hand gently on his upper arm. He danced the same way he did everything else- flawlessly. I was very aware of his chest brushing up against me as we moved about. "Bit close, aren't you?" I asked, for something to say.

His fingers dug into my back. "You don't really mind, dear Ginevra."

I shook my head, just the barest of movements, then rested my head against the upper part of his chest. I closed my eyes and let him lead me easily about the room.

"This is going to lend credence to the 'lovers' idea," he told me, and I had to smile.

"I don't care," I answered. "We're leaving as soon as we get through here."

"Are you looking forward to getting home?"

"No," I replied honestly. "I want to do this forever."

"Malfoy Manor has a ballroom," he suggested, and I had to grin as I lifted my head to look at him.

"I have obligations waiting for me in London," I reminded him, my eyes searching his for a moment before I dropped my head against his chest again, listening to his heart beat through his black dress robes.

"Spend Christmas with me," he offered after a moment. "Draco will be with Narcissa, the house will be quiet."

"I want to," I told him quietly. "But I don't really know that it's a good idea."

"Think about it."

"I will," I promised.

We spent the most of the rest of the night dancing with each other, or sitting in silence together while we drank punch. I was determined to stay sober. I had a strong feeling that if I got drunk, there was a very good chance that I would end up going home with him. He had his own reasons for staying sober and he didn't share them, although I suspected they were a lot similar to mine.

The Gala drew to a close. There was a round of goodbyes to the people we'd become acquainted with over the week, and then we flooed back to the hotel. My suitcase was packed and waiting for me. Our Portkey back was waiting for us at a nearby bus station, in a very similar broom cupboard to the one we'd left King's Cross Station from. Lucius pressed himself up against me again, his hand over mine, and this time I leaned back against him, seeking the contact.

Too soon we were in a frosty field not too far out of Hogsmeade. I managed to keep my feet this time. "This isn't King's Cross Station," I said needlessly, peering around us. The weak morning sun was peering out from behind dark clouds, it was probably going to snow in Hogsmeade later. Then again, taking a Portkey into those tiny broom cupboards would have probably caused injuries.

I didn't want to go into town, and I didn't want to go back to Luna's seaside cottage just yet. Mostly I didn't want to leave that place, because then I would have to get back to my life. I would have to arrange to talk with Harry and break his heart just the same way as he'd broken mine, I would have to see my family, and the next time I saw Lucius would be in our office and he would be Mr. Malfoy.

He seemed to be feeling the same reluctance I was. "There's a bench," he said, pointing to one that was nearby. Walking over to it revealed that it was covered in frost, but a quick wave of my wand took care of that.

I sat, and he sat beside me, his leg firmly against mine. After a moment, he rested his hand on my thigh, and I had to smile. "Not subtle," I told him.

"I wasn't aiming for subtle, dear Ginevra." His hand traveled gently up my leg, the leather-covered fingers brushing at my inner thigh.

"I need to find a flat," I thought out loud, trying to distract myself.

"I have unoccupied property in London," he informed me, dropping back into the mild haughtiness I was used to. His hand stopped a finger-width away from touching me in a very intimate way and I stared at it for a moment while I tried to process what he'd said.

I looked up into his face, and the smug look there jolted my thoughts forward again. "If I'm living in _your_ flat, then I might as well be living _with_ you, and we're definitely not there yet." Yet? It had just slipped out, but I didn't take it back.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't contradict my logic. "Then I don't suppose it would do much good to point out that taking another room at Malfoy Manor could have us living further away from each other than we were in the hotel." I shook my head. "Nonetheless, if there's anything I can do for you, don't hesitate to let me know." His fingers dug into my leg just a little, making his meaning all too clear.

I glance down at his gloved hand and then up again, right into his eyes. "There's a lot you can do for me," I told him softly. "I just don't think any of it is a good idea right now."

"One thing, dear Ginevra. Allow me one thing." His hand shifted, starting to move.

I stood and his hand fell away, and I resettled myself back down on his knee this time. I leaned my cheek against his thick woolen overcoat and, after a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arms around my waist, which was a far safer place for them to be. "I get the feeling that you're trying to convince me to go home with you right now."

"Would I do that?" he drawled.

"In a heartbeat," I replied quickly. "Technically, though, I'm still with Harry," I reminded him. "That's something else I have to do today."

"You need sleep. _He_ can wait." Lucius did _not_ like him.

"Why don't you like Harry?" I asked, lifting up my fingers to comb through his hair. It was irrationally soft, softer than a wizard's hair had any right to be. "Without him, I doubt very much that I would be snuggled up on your lap right now."

"Then I shall have to send him a thank you note immediately," he drawled.

I had to giggle. "Oh, I really am tired. I should probably get some coffee before I go to Luna's house. And I have to stop at the post office, I don't have an owl. And I need to get some groceries..."

"Then I shall leave you. You have a lot to accomplish today and some of us don't have the _endless_ energy of youth."

I slipped from my perch and stood. "I suppose that's what happens when you get old," I teased.

He stood as well, just in front of me. "Take care, or I may be tempted to show you just how fit this 'old' wizard still is."

I looked over him much the same way he looked over me and I lifted one of my eyebrows in an imitation of him as my eyes came back to his face. "And here I thought you were saying goodbye."

He stepped into me, one hand coming to the small of my back to hold me against him. "Dear Ginevra, I am sorely tempted to show you what happens to witches who tease." The look in his eye made my belly twinge again and I wondered if he was going to kiss me. His free hand caught one of mine and lifted it slowly between us, our eyes locked together. His lips grazed across my knuckles, his upper lip catching against my skin, and a flick of hot moisture that could only be his tongue.

"Lucius, that's not fair," I almost moaned, and he looked immensely pleased with himself.

"What have I ever done that would make you think I'm one to 'play fair?'" His eyes swept over me and a very satisfied smile graced his lips. "I shall see you tomorrow morning. Get some rest today." And then his picked up his two suitcases and he was gone with a _pop_.

I got some coffee for myself in Hogsmeade, and sent an owl with a short note to Mum and Dad, letting them know I'd arrived back in England and I desperately needed some sleep, but I'd talk to them very soon. And then I flooed to the flat I'd shared with Harry.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thank you bunches for the awesome reviews. *heart* Alesia G- Thank you! I meant it to be sort of vague intentions for the future without actually nailing anything down.**

**So I'm just finishing writing this thing out right now (we're halfwayish through at this point) and, fair warning: It gets a little lemony in a few chapters. I didn't necessarily want it to, but a certain blond wizard seemed to have other ideas. I will put warnings in those chapters (cough) where appropriate. And now... On with the show!**

Harry was just finishing putting the dishes from his own breakfast in the sink. He looked back at me as I stepped into the living room. It struck me that he didn't come over to offer me his hand to help me out of the fireplace. Then again, I didn't really need the help. I never did, in fact, but Lucius was very proper about manners. "Are you back, then?" he asked, carefully neutral.

I went and sank onto our- his- sofa. "We need to talk."

"Yeah, alright." He came in and sat down next to me. "How was your trip?"

"Not bad. Parts of it anyway." I gave him a rueful smile. "The Canadian Minister of Magic is a right bitch."

"Shacklebolt's said much the same thing," he replied.

I had to grin. "Well, at least it's not just me. You're famous over there too, you know."

He winced. "Great, that's just what I need." I knew he didn't like his continued fame. He looked at me for a minute, perched on the sofa with my suitcase at my feet. "You're not coming back are you?"

I shook my head. "No," I affirmed softly. "I'm not."

"Why not? I love you, Ginny," he told me fiercely.

"I love you, Harry, but it's not enough."

"But what does that even mean?" he demanded.

I shrugged and spread my hands wide. "You don't understand me. I need... I need understanding right now, Harry."

"So help me understand." He was almost pleading with me.

I let out a deep sigh. "You never ask me what I want, you just assume that you know what's best for me and plow on ahead with it."

"Not this again!" he snapped, throwing up his hands. "I was 16! I had the weight of the entire world resting on my shoulders, Ginny, I was under a tremendous amount of pressure."

"Yes, and now you're 20 and you don't, and you're still doing the same things. You decided we should move in together, and told me after you'd already signed the lease. You decided we should get married, and when I said, 'I'm not ready,' instead of saying something like, 'Alright, we'll come back to this later,' you _argued_ with me."

"I didn't argue with you," he contradicted me, folding his arms tightly. "I asked you why not."

"Right, and reminded me that your parents were married at 18, and Luna..." I was raising my voice, well on my way to yelling. I stopped and took a deep breath, trying to quell the angry flush that I could feel in my cheeks. "You didn't just ask me why not. You asked me why not, because other people had, as though there was something wrong with me not being ready." I took another deep breath. "Do you remember what you said to me when I told you that I'd never be able to play Quidditch again?"

"You'll find something else. You're a smart girl, Ginny, too smart to sit around and sulk about something you have no control over."

"Sulk?" I was yelling now. "Sulk? How dare you! It was my _dream_, Harry. I'm allowed to mourn the loss of my dream. I'm allowed to take some time to adjust to _never_ being able to do the thing I love most in the world. Do you know I can't even play pick-up games in the orchard with you and my brothers anymore? No more Quidditch. _At all_. So when we all go over to visit with my family on Christmas and you and George and Ron and Charlie and Bill need someone else to play three-a-side Quidditch with, I _can't_." I was so furious I was shaking. "I'm going to be sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window, and wishing desperately that I could be up there with you."

He stared at me for a moment, and I could see the full realization of what I was saying entering his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to get it. "But you love Quidditch," he protested softly.

"Yes," I agreed fiercely. "I do. Someone in Ottawa knew who I was, you know. Someone from another country thought I was good enough to know who I was, and now I have to 'find something else.' Not because I had a good career and I've decided to retire to move onto the next portion of my life, not because I just couldn't hack it playing professional Quidditch, but because of an _accident_.So forgive me if I'm not immediately ready to skip off down the garden path and into the next thing I'm going to try to fill the space of the dream I've lost with." Bitter tears were slipping unbidden down my cheeks and the base of my skull was beginning to throb with tension.

"I'm sorry," he offered quietly, sincerely. There was pain in his green eyes, he was finally starting to understand. He moved across the sofa to me and put his arms around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest. "We don't have to get engaged right now, Ginny. Just come back. Please, come back."

There, in his arms, it was tempting. It was so tempting to just say yes, to leave the suitcase on the floor for later and go into our room and let him hold me until I fell asleep. "Do you regret it?" I asked him softly, so quietly that I wondered if he'd heard what I'd said. "Do you regret it?" I repeated, lifting my face from his soft jumper to look into his green eyes again. I knew he'd know what I was talking about.

There was another flash of pain reflected in his eyes. "No," he replied, just as quietly. "I needed to know that you were safe."

I gently pulled away from him and stood. "I'll come back for the rest of my stuff later," I told him. I felt oddly detached, as though I was tucked up somewhere in the back of my mind and watching this all play out in front of me like it was a Muggle television show.

I picked up my suitcase and walked over to the fireplace and took a handful of the floo powder. Where was I going to go? I didn't want to be alone right now. "Shell Cottage," I said on a whim as I tossed it into the fireplace and stepped through.

Fleur was sitting on the floor in their small sitting room, playing with Victoire. "Ginny!" she exclaimed softly.

"I'm sorry, I know I didn't floo ahead, but I'd really like somewhere to stay."

"Of course you can stay here!" she offered warmly.

"I'm going to look for a flat tomorrow, I just need sleep so badly." I sounded pathetic, even to my own ears.

"You are so pale, you should eat or you will wake up sick." She stood up and lifted Victoire onto her hip, then took my arm and gently led me through to the kitchen. "Bill just stepped out, he will be back soon."

I let her draw me through their small house and was ushered into a chair. "You don't need to do all of that," I protested as she started taking a pan down from the hanging rack.

"Nonsense," she told me firmly. "You hold your niece, I will cook." I was duly handed a baby and Fleur moved briskly around the kitchen.

"She looks so big," I marveled. "Even compared to last week."

"Soon she will be walking, I think."

Victoire was regarding me seriously with her almost-oversized blue eyes, one hand jammed into her mouth, her chubby little chin covered in drool. She reached out and patted my cloak, making me realize I was still wearing it.

Fleur came by and handed her daughter a thick wooden spoon, which she immediately started bashing against my arm. "How was Ontario?"

"Very cold. It was mostly sunny while we were there, but there was still snow on the ground, all frozen on top."

"I hope it snows here soon, I think _ma bebe_ would love it."

"Do you want it to snow?" I asked her, and she gurgled at me. "Their Ministry is partially above-ground."

"More space," she answered knowingly. "I am glad we do not live in London- too busy, everywhere."

"Yeah," I agreed. "It's nice out here. Quiet."

"You should have said you were staying at Luna's house," she chided me gently. "We would have come for a visit."

"I didn't want to disturb you," I mumbled, shifting Victoire as she started squirming. "I think she wants down."

"She wants to get into things. Soon, _ma bebe_, let _maman_ cook for Aunt Ginny." She looked back over her shoulder, her blue eyes fastening on mine. "You do not disturb family, Ginny. Yes?"

"Yes," I repeated, suitably chastened.

She nodded, satisfied, and turned back to the stove.

The front door opened and I heard my brother call, "Hello?" and Victoire started squirming in earnest and babbling at the sound of her father's voice.

"In the kitchen," Fleur called back sweetly.

I heard him move through the house. "Oh, hello!" he greeted, taking his little girl from me as she reached up for him. "When did you get in?"

"Just now," I answered.

"Ginny will be staying with us," Fleur informed him, and he looked up from where he was kissing Victoire's cheeks, making her giggle.

"Good," he said, with a smile for me.

"Just until I get a flat," I told him.

"Stay as long as you want."

"I should only be a day or two."

"Don't be silly," he told me pleasantly. "Find a flat at this time of year? You're better off waiting until after New Year's."

"I don't want to put you out..."

"Ginny," Fleur started, a note of warning in her voice. She came over and deposited a plate filled with eggs and toast in front of me. "You do not 'put out' family." She gave me a fierce glare, folding her arms as she looked down at me until I ducked my head to my plate.

"Ok," I said meekly, and took the fork she handed me so I could begin eating.

Bill gave Victoire a final kiss and stooped to put her on the floor, handing her the wooden spoon she'd dropped when he picked her up. "Do you still have things to pick up from your old flat?"

I nodded and swallowed. "Just a few things. Some clothes, some books, a few little things."

"When do you get off work tomorrow?" he asked.

"Half-past four."

"If we don't see Harry tonight at dinner, I'll send him an owl and let him know we'll pop by to pick it all up after you finish with work. All right? I'll meet you by the floos."

They were being so kind to me, both of them were, that I almost started crying. I put my fork down at stared that the eggs that were swimming through the tears that had gathered in my eyes. "I'm not going tonight."

"No, I reckon you'll already be asleep." He patted my hand. "You're tired, Ginny, it'll all look a little better once you've had some sleep."

I nodded dumbly and ate as much as I could. When I was done, I went to take my dishes over to the sink, but Fleur shook her head. "Just leave them. Get some sleep, Ginny."

Bill had taken my suitcase up to their guest room while I was eating. I barely took the time to change into my nightgown before I laid down on the bed. I was almost instantly asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I have been waiting all day to get this up, for reals. Thank you for the lovely reviews, my lovely reviewers. I appreciate you!**

I woke up hungry late that afternoon. They'd already gone to The Burrow. Fleur left a note that there was a plate of lunch waiting for me in the ice box, it just needed to be heated up when I was ready to eat it, and I was to help myself to anything else I wanted. I ate and had some pumpkin juice and wandered around aimlessly for a little while before deciding to go and get my broom from the Harpies' training pitch. I bundled up in my cloak and gloves and went outside to Apparate to Wales.

It was dark and quiet there, but I knew the private charm to unlock it and let me in. I was still officially on the roster, and so the protective enchantments let me in.

It was strange to walk through when it was so still like that. My footsteps echoed a little in the empty stone corridor. The lights were enchanted to come on as I walked by them, meant more for early morning practice than someone coming in after hours.

I reached the changing room that was lined with lockers. I had one, my name still on a plaque at the top, where my broom and uniform were kept between matches. I opened it. Seeing my broom again was like seeing an old friend and I gave it a loving caress before I took it out of the locker. It was a Firebolt, of course.

My dark green team robes, laundered since the last match by the house elves that kept the training pitch and changing rooms tidy, hung on the hook at the back of the locker. My name was embroidered in gold across the back and I reached out to run my fingers over the blocky capital letters. **WEASLEY**. Ever since I'd been a little girl with the walls of my childhood bedroom plastered with posters, I'd wanted to be a part of this team. I'd wanted to be a Holyhead Harpy. And I'd made it. I'd tried out the summer after school ended and I'd found out just over a year ago that I'd made the team. I was playing alongside the witches whose posters had covered my walls. They'd accepted me as one of their own. We were teammates, they were like a second family.

And then it had all been taken away from me. We'd been playing against Puddlemere United, our biggest rivals. I'd had the quaffle and I'd had a bludger hit at me, and it hadn't been deflected. I'd fallen to the ground and lost consciousness and woken up in the hospital. My family had been there but none of the team had, because they'd had to finish out the match. I'd received owls from some of them but I hadn't replied; I hadn't been ready or known what to say. It was probably time to do that when I got back to Bill and Fleur's place. They had an owl, I was sure they wouldn't mind if I borrowed it.

I took a last look at the dark green team robes hanging in the locker with my name emblazoned in gold across the back, and then shut the locker for one last time. This was it. This part of my life was officially over.

I left the training facility, broom in hand, and Apparated back to Shell Cottage. I stopped inside only long enough to get a thick woolen hat and put my hair up into a pony tail, and then I was back outside. I cast the complex Disillusionment Charm on myself and my broom and then I was flying again. I soared through the air, high above the cliffs and the ocean below.

I loved flying. It was liberating. There was no one else up there, and it was easy to leave behind the pain I'd caused Harry, the disapproval from my family, the confusing things that were happening with Lucius...

I flew until my face started going numb and my eyes were streaming with tears from the cold air, and then I landed in the small front garden. I got back inside just as my brother and sister-in-law were coming back home. Fleur stepped out of the fireplace and smiled at me before taking her sleeping daughter up the stairs to put her to bed.

Bill took in my rosy cheeks and watering eyes and asked, "Feeling a little better?"

I nodded. "Can I borrow your owl? I want to send some letters to the girls from the team."

"Of course," he replied. "Have you eaten?"

I nodded. "Well, lunch. Not dinner. I don't know if I'm hungry."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, or she'll come down here and sit you down and stand over you until you eat." He gestured to the kitchen and I preceded him in. "This isn't exactly what I meant when I said we would go to lunch, but we could sit and have a drink."

"That would be nice." I pulled some leftovers out of the ice box and used my wand to heat them up and then sat down at the table.

Bill had pulled out a couple of bottles of beer from somewhere and he handed me one. "So?" he prompted as he opened his.

"So..." I shrugged. "I left Harry." I peered up at him over the table. "Why don't you look surprised?"

"I'm not. Even if it hadn't been a topic of conversation at dinner today, I still wouldn't be. For all that everyone's been telling me you were in love with him since you were a little girl- well, a littler girl-" I gave his arm a shove and he chuckled. "You're too much like Mum. You need someone a little more steady. Harry's not there yet. I'm not saying he'll never be, but he's certainly not right now."

"When I told him that I couldn't play Quidditch again, his very next words were, 'you'll find something else.'" It still sounded a little bitter when I said it.

Bill winced. "Sorry, Gin."

"Me too. He gets it now. I spelled it out for him and he seems to understand, but he's still..." I sighed and took a long drink. "He proposed. The night I got the Ministry job, I got home from a beyond-horrible day and he proposed. And when I told him that I needed some time, he argued with me." I shook my head. "I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but he's not right for me right now."

"No. He's not." He reached over and dropped his hand on my shoulder. "Mum's a little put out, because of course everyone knows now that you two actually broke up. But Dad's telling her to stay out of it."

"That's something, I guess."

Fleur came into the kitchen and gave Bill a warm kiss and me a hug. "I will be up in bed when you are ready for sleep," she told him on her way back out of the kitchen.

"You can stay," I protested. I felt a little guilty, like I was kicking her out of her own kitchen. Even though I hadn't really even said anything to her.

"No, you need some time to speak with Bill." She disappeared again.

"So, how was Canada?" Bill prompted as soon as his wife had gone from view.

"Good. Dreadful. Confusing. Good." That pretty much summed up the entire trip.

"Do you want to talk about any of that?" he asked, his blue eyes warm and sincere. When I hesitated, he continued. "You know I'm not going to judge you, Ginny." He was looking at me like he knew something. He couldn't know something, could he? Bill had always been very perceptive.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I don't even know how I'm feeling about it. Something... happened. I mean, nothing _happened_, because I was still with Harry."

"Someone made you feel something that you hadn't expected," he predicted, and I nodded.

"That's it exactly."

"And how was Malfoy?" I stared at him for long enough that he started to chuckle. "It was Malfoy, wasn't it?"

I glared at him, daring him to say something. "Yes."

"So it's safe to say you no longer hate him?"

"No. I no longer hate him." I wasn't sure exactly what I felt towards him, but it certainly wasn't hate.

"From a practical standpoint, it's good to... _not hate_ the person you're working for. You know you don't need Dad's approval to stop hating someone."

I nodded. "I know. But I feel sort of like I'm betraying Dad. They've been the very worst of enemies for such a long time."

"True, but you're not Dad." He shrugged his lean shoulders. "I reckon you know better than anyone else what kind of person he is now, and whether or not it's worth putting all that time and energy into hating him."

"It is certainly a lot less exhausting not to." I finished off my food and stood up to take my plate and fork to the sink.

"You should think about staying, Ginny," my brother suggested, seemingly from nowhere.

"I beg your pardon?" I had to smile a little bit at the thought that Lucius would be a little smug about my word choice.

"Not getting a flat. Fleur and I talked about it; we like having you here. And it gives you one less thing to worry about while you figure out what's going on."

"I... Thank you," I said sincerely. "I don't know though, I want to do the whole independent woman thing." I finished washing the dishes and dried them with a quick charm from my wand. I didn't dare mention not wanting to be in the way again, or Fleur would probably swoop down the stairs and give me a lecture about it. I was really glad Bill and she had gotten married, despite my initial foolishness over it.

"So pay us rent if it makes you feel better." I heard the scrape of the wooden legs of Bill's chair on the floor as he rose and took the plate from me to put it away.

I hoisted myself up to sit on the counter and he handed me my beer. "But what if I want to go out at all hours to celebrate my new-found singleness?"

He snorted at that. "Is that what you really want to do?" He leaned back against the counter with his own drink.

"Well, probably not."

"No rules, we're not Mum and Dad. Just if you're out late, be quiet when you come in because if you wake up the baby, you're in charge of getting her back to sleep."

I grinned. "That sounds fair."

"And if you go out and you're not coming home until later the next day, send a Patronus so we know. And don't bring any one-offs back here."

"I thought you said no rules," I teased.

He reached over with his long arm and ruffled my hair, pulling some of it free from the ponytail. "None that apply to you, because I'm pretty sure you wouldn't do any of that anyway."

"I almost wish I did," I found myself saying. "Then I could get ridiculously drunk, have a mindless one-off, and wake up in the morning with a hangover and a large amount of shame and be totally over Harry and the whole not-playing-Quidditch thing." That would certainly be less complicated than whatever was going on with Lucius. "There's bound to be someone at Hannah and Neville's wedding who'll have a drunken one-off with me. Isn't that what weddings are for, when you're single?"

He chuckled. "Take it from me, Gin, it doesn't work like that. There's also a lot of guilt and self-recrimination and you end up feeling worse about the whole thing."

I started to giggle. "You had drunken one-offs? Does Fleur know?"

He gave me a gentle shove, being careful not to spill me off the counter. "No, but a certain brother of ours who shall remain nameless did all of that and then had to flee to Romania to get away from his guilt." He turned towards the ice box and started going through the assorted papers and things that were on top of it. "Speaking of, Charlie sent a letter for you while you were away."

"He sent it here?"

"Aha!" He pulled an envelope down and leaned over to hand it to me. "Yeah. He seemed to know that you'd come and see your favorite brother for advice at some point."

"But George is my favorite," I teased him, and he shoved me off the counter that time. I'd been expecting it and I laughed as I landed easily. There wasn't enough beer left to make a mess and I deposited the mostly empty bottle on the counter. "Thanks, Bill."

He came over and gave me a hug. "There's some parchment and a quill in the sitting room if you want to get caught up on some letters. I'm going to go up and join Fleur."

"Don't need to hear that!" I protested, and gave him a squeeze before I released him.

"This from the girl who was just planning a wedding day full of drunken one-offs." I swatted his arm. "So are you staying?"

I nodded. "I'll stay."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thank you, Alesia G! :D I love writing Weasley family stuff, and I definitely agree about Bill!**

I was up for a little while writing letters, sending one to all of my former teammates who had written to me. Charlie's note was sweet. Bad luck about the Quidditch, he hoped I was ok, and if I wanted to get away for a while I was more than welcome to visit him at the reserve.

I didn't sleep very well again that night and I was up at a ridiculously early hour of the morning. I made breakfast for everyone and settled down to eat with a cup of coffee.

Fleur came down a short time later carrying a fussy Victoire, who was settled in the high chair with a handful of cold cereal and a small cup of water with a lid and a spout. "Good morning," she mumbled to me. "Thank you for breakfast."

"You're welcome."

She didn't really seem like a morning person and there wasn't a lot of conversation as we sat and ate. That was ok with me. I was thinking about work. Last week seemed so far away, like it was years ago instead of just last week. Had I really, just the day before, been sitting on Lucius' knee, flirting with him like there was nothing else I would rather be doing? And just before that, his hand had...

"I'm going in early," I said, just as Bill was coming into the kitchen. "Meetings all day, lots to prepare." I kissed Victoire on the forehead. "I'll meet you by the floos after work," I told my brother.

"Alright," he agreed. "I hope you have a good day, Ginny."

"Thanks. You too." I went up to my room to get my notepad and quill and put on my Ministry robes, and then flooed to the Ministry.

I got myself a paper cup full of coffee and headed to the office I shared with Lucius. He wasn't in yet, of course. I hoped he had a better sleep than I did.

I was in the middle of writing out the results of the pointless cauldron bottom thickness meeting into a formal report when Lucius came in. He let the door close behind him and stood in front of it, looking down at me. "You're not sleeping well again, Miss Weasley." he observed.

I shook my head. "I think I'm still adjusting. Time change and all that."

"I'm afraid I got poor rest as well." He paused, his gray eyes unreadable. "Though it was nice to sleep in my own bed again; I have broom cupboards bigger than that hotel room."

"I'm surprised you even know where the broom cupboards in your house are," I said, and was rewarded with a smile. "I went and got my broom last night."

"Very good," he declared. "Did you ride?"

I nodded. "It was good. Freezing, but good."

"You wore gloves, I hope." He was going through the production that was taking off his own gloves. "I don't think I saw you in them once while we were abroad; I was certain you hadn't brought any."

"It's not like we were outside all that much."

"Indeed. Are you going to want to take lunch with Miss Granger today?" he asked, confirming my suspicions that his interruptions hadn't been coincidence.

I thought about it for a moment. I hadn't even considered it before he'd asked. Of course she was going to come and get me for lunch. "I think so."

"Very good. When is the meeting with the Minister and," his mouth tightened with distaste just for a moment, "your brother?"

I checked my diary. "Nine."

"And did you rid yourself of your _obligations_?" He came and perched on the edge of my desk beside me, and I noticed that I didn't really mind anymore.

I sighed. "I did. It was harder than I thought it would be."

"It usually is." There was a trace of sympathy in his cold eyes.

"I'm staying with my brother now."

His eyebrow lifted. "I was under the impression that you have rather a large number of brothers."

I smiled at that. "I do. I'm staying with Bill, my oldest brother. He lives out by Luna's house. I'm not allowed to bring one-offs home."

"How fortunate, then, that I have a large home completely at my disposal."

"Why, are we going to have a one-off?" I forced my tone to stay level.

I thought I wasn't going to get an answer when he stood and moved past me. Then one of his hands rested on the back of my chair and the other braced itself on the desk beside me while he leaned forward to murmur directly in my ear, "Dear Ginevra, the things I want to do to you will certainly take more than one night." The things that low voice to me did were definitely not appropriate at work. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Aren't I supposed to be the one saying that, Mr. Malfoy?" I managed. He was right about not playing fair.

"You already know what I want." And then he was away from me, moving into his own office where he sat down to go through his own reports. He left the door open and I could feel his eyes on me.

I turned back to look at him; one pale eyebrow lifted and his eyes swept over me before a knowing smile turned up his lips. There was no way he didn't notice the flush that heated my cheeks.

The meeting with the Minister and Percy went the way I thought it would. Percy wasn't satisfied with what had happened, even though Lucius had gone over everything Percy had asked him to. I refrained from calling the Canadian Minister of Magic a bitch, although I did comment on how shrewd she was, and our own Minister gave me a broad grin that said he knew exactly what I meant.

There was a knock on the door around midday and it opened to show Hermione standing there. She was looking a little bit anxious. "Are you free for lunch today?" she asked.

"I am." I tidied up my desk and got up, smoothing my Ministry robes down as I stood. I went back to where Lucius' door was open. "I'm going to lunch," I told him quietly.

"Very good, Miss Weasley."

Hermione and I went down to the lifts and then got our lunches in an uneasy silence. We sat together at a table to. She spoke first. "How was it?"

"Good," I replied. "I think everything went as well as it was supposed to. Percy's not happy, but then he's never happy."

She smiled at that. "Not unless he's doing it himself."

"They were so much less formal there, I think he would have had a fit. Malfoy nearly did." I grinned at the memory.

"Really?" she asked.

"No one wore robes, everyone used each others' first names, and there wasn't such a rigid hierarchy. The Minister probably wouldn't have appreciated him kissing up to her." I had a strong feeling that the Canadian Minister of Magic would not have appreciated my brother's sycophantic tendencies at all. Our own Minister didn't, and he seemed a lot more patient.

"Well, then he really would have had a bad time." She hesitated a moment. "Are you... Going back to Luna's place?" She was very pointedly not bringing up Harry. That was somewhat of a relief.

I shook my head. "I'm staying with Bill and Fleur."

"That's good." She hesitated again. This wasn't exactly the most comfortable lunch I'd ever had with her. "There's talk of moving me into the Magical Law division."

"That's great, Hermione!" She was currently working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. "I think you'd be really brilliant in Magical Law."

"The Minister seems to think so, too. After Luna went back to Hogwarts to teach, he sat me down for a meeting and told me that he was worried that they were under-utilizing my talents." She was blushing with her characteristic humility. "Do you know what you're going to do?"

I shook my head. That was one thing I hadn't really thought about. "I'm content where I am for the time being. It's low-stress enough to let me get used to... things. The travel is nice too; we're going to France in March apparently."

"You'll still be here in March?" She sounded completely surprised by the prospect. "You think you can put up with Malfoy for that long?"

I studied my plate for a long moment, thinking of what to say. "He's not so bad, you know," I offered at last.

She gave me a sharp look. "Last time we had lunch, he was an arrogant bastard."

"Well, he is arrogant. But we came to an understanding while we were abroad." I tried to keep my face as neutral as I could. There was no way I was going to go into the details of our 'understanding' with her.

"I guess that's for the best, if you're going to keep working for him." Her doubt was written all over her face.

We finished eating and I went back to my office, she to hers. Lucius was absent when I got back, of course.

He came in a short time later. He didn't say anything, but he did brush his hand over my shoulder as he passed.

Later that afternoon, I was standing in front of one of the cabinets, filing away one of my reports, when I felt something brush against the back of my calves. I whirled around and Lucius was right there- it was the hem of his robes brushing up against me. "Can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" I asked, my heart-rate notably sped up and my voice a little higher than normal.

His hand came up on the cabinet just beside my head and he leaned forward until his lips brushed tantalizingly against my ear as he spoke. "Come home with me."

"When?" I asked, afraid to move for fear that I would throw myself at him and do something very improper at work.

"Friday. We'll have dinner and then I'll take you until you're shouting my name."

My eyes closed at the very vivid image his words conjured up in my mind. "I thought you didn't want to have a one-off," I whispered.

"It's hardly a 'one-off' if the situation repeats itself." The movement of his lips against my ear was doing bad things to my sense of equilibrium. "And I intend to _ensure_ it repeats itself. You're driving me to distraction, dear Ginevra, and I am aching to bury myself inside of you."

I pressed my lips between my teeth to stifle my moan. "This is hardly appropriate workplace conversation," I managed, tucking my hands behind my back to keep from touching him.

"I'll stop when you say yes."

I nodded. "Yes," I whispered.

"Very good," he murmured, voice low, and then he straightened and moved away from me back into his inner office. It was a moment before I was able to remember what I'd been doing and go back to my own desk.

I very distractedly finished out my afternoon and met Bill by the floos to go and get the rest of my stuff. He had his own Ministry badge; he'd been contracted to work for them to help clear out the Gringotts vaults of all of the Death Eaters who'd died or been imprisoned through the war. He chatted congenially with Harry while I gathered everything together and then I left the flat for the last time. After dinner, I stopped by George's flat to get the rest of the things I'd left there while I was in Canada.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thank you all for all the reviews, you are awesome! **

**So, uh, I mentioned lemons a few chapters ago and, well, consider yourself warned. Blame the blond one, he made me do it.**

He very pointedly didn't touch me for most of the rest of the week. He would brace his hand on the back of my chair and lean into my personal space with his hair brushing against my shoulder, or he would come up behind me, close enough that I could feel the hem of his robes brushing against my legs, but he would hold himself back just enough that we weren't actually touching. He did it even when it would have been more natural to make some sort of contact- at the end of the day, he would help me with my cloak, but even then he wouldn't let his hands actually come into contact with me. On Tuesday, it was amusing. On Thursday, it was infuriating.

Friday went a little differently, though. Friday morning before I left Shell Cottage, I let Bill and Fleur know that I was going to be going out after work and I wouldn't be home until late, but that I'd be quiet. They exchanged a speculative look, but neither one of them said anything.

All day long, Lucius kept finding excuses to touch me. Nothing indecent, just a gentle hand on my arm or a brush across my shoulder. He was, quite honestly, driving me mad. That had probably been precisely the point.

By the time the day drew to a close, I was a distracted mass of nerves. The last hour seemed to crawl by. I'd work for what felt like ten minutes, only to look at the time and see it had been two. At last, though, Lucius came in behind me and brushed his hand across the skin at back of my neck- I had my hair in a ponytail. "Second thoughts?" he asked me solicitously.

I shook my head and pushed back my chair to stand up. "Not at all." He'd seen to that.

He took my cloak down before I could get there and wrapped it securely around me, his fingers brushing along my collarbone. I noticed that he didn't bother with his gloves before putting his own cloak on, and then he walked beside me as we headed to the floos.

He flooed through first, of course, and then I followed. He was waiting, hand outstretched for mine, when I came out the other side. After helping me out of the fireplace, he took my cloak from me. "You may wish to take off your robes as well."

"I may wish to, or you want me to?" I asked him.

His eyes swept over me. "I believe that the things we _desire_ coincide, dear Ginevra." He took off his own Ministry robes, and after a moment I followed suit. Both of our cloaks and robes ended up slung neatly across the back of a nearby chair. "Kitty!" he called.

A house-elf appeared and looked up at him. "Yes, Master?"

"Is dinner prepared?" he asked her, not unkindly.

"Dinner is laid out in the small dining room, Master."

"Very good." He offered me his arm as the house-elf picked up the bundle of cloth and disappeared with a crack.

I took his arm and let him lead me through the hall past several doors, both open and closed. "Aren't you going to show me around?" I prompted him.

"Allow me a lapse in manners until next time," he answered easily. "I believe I promised you dinner, and it's going to be difficult enough to get through that without pulling you across the table and pushing your skirt up around your hips to taste your sweet body instead of the food." His tone was quite matter-of-fact, but his words made me tighten the grip I had on his arm. I had absolutely nothing to say to that.

After a short time we came to an open door that revealed a small, elegantly carved wooden table and accompanying chairs upholstered in a rich purple. He pulled out a chair for me and I sat, and then plates of delicious-looking food appeared in front of us along with two goblets filled with wine. The tension between us grew steadily as we ate until it was almost a physical presence, neither one of us really saying anything.

"Well, that was lovely," I said when I was finished, wiping my mouth with my napkin. "Your house-elf is a good cook." It occurred to me to ask if he was treating his current house-elf better than he'd treated Dobby, but the thought was banished by the look in his gray eyes as he stood and came around to where I was.

He took my hand and I let him help me up. "Allow me to show you at least one other room." He led me down the hall, up the stairs, down another hall, and then into a large bedroom. It was a very masculine room, all dark wood and darker blues with cream and silver.

The first thing I did was step out of my low-heeled work shoes. The carpet was thick and lush under my stocking-covered feet. "No Slytherin green?" I teased. "Nothing dripping in gold?"

"If you must know, gold makes my hair look too yellow," he informed me with a haughty sniff.

I laughed, I couldn't help it. The tension poured out of me as I laughed and he stood and watched me with an eyebrow raised and an amused expression on his face.

He stepped into me and I stopped laughing like he'd silenced me. One hand came up to free my hair from its ponytail and then cradle the back of my head, the other rested on my hip. My hands slid over his silk waistcoat, around his back. He seemed content to hold me there and look at me.

"Lucius," I murmured, "if you don't kiss me soon, I'm going to get that chair and pull it over here so I can kiss you." He was too tall for me to meet his lips without help, either his or standing on furniture.

He lowered his head and kissed me, fanning the spark that had been started a week and a half ago in a hotel room. His lips were hard against mine, demanding, and it was only a few seconds before he parted my lips under his and slid his tongue inside to tangle with my own. My hands came around to his front and found the buttons to his waistcoat and I quickly unbuttoned it, and then the shirt underneath. I pulled the shirt out of his trousers so I could put my arms around him again, my hands sliding against his bare skin. But touching wasn't enough. I pulled away from the searing movement of his mouth and stepped back a pace so I could look at him, my eyes roving over his body in much the same way I was used to him looking at me.

"Well, you weren't lying," I praised him. He was extremely fit, his muscles broad and defined. That was the body of a man who took care of himself. His chest and the flat planes of his abdomen were lightly covered in the same pale hair that made up his eyebrows.

"You approve, then." It wasn't a question, and it was just the tiniest bit mocking.

"You'll do," I teased him.

He caught my arm and pulled me against him again, setting me a little off-balance so that I fell into him. I braced my hands his bare chest and I barely had time to shift to a less precarious position when his mouth claimed mine again, almost bruising me with the force of his kiss. His hands made quick work of the buttons of my blouse, and he slid it down my arms without taking his lips from mine. When he skillfully unhooked my bra let it fall to the floor between us, I had to pull back for a moment to breathe.

"One-handed, I am impressed," I managed, my voice high and uneven.

"Then you're really going to enjoy this." His hand came to the small of my back to hold me steady as he stepped forward, urging me back until the backs of my thighs hit the edge of bed. He unfastened my skirt and pushed it and my knickers down in one smooth motion and I stepped out of them, leaving me nude before him save for the thigh-high stockings I wore. His lips found mine again, but it was only for a moment before he shifted them to my cheek, over my jaw, down the side of my neck. He spent some time there learning what made me gasp and what made me moan, and then applied that knowledge to the sensitive skin on the other side of my neck as I clutched at his shoulders.

His mouth made a hot trail down over my collarbone and down my breast, then fastened over the peak, using lips and teeth and tongue until I was moaning continuously, my knees weak and shaky. His fingers deftly found the other nipple and pinched sharply, the sudden intense feeling making me gasp, but I found it wasn't an unwelcome sensation. In an instant his mouth shifted over, soothing it with the soft heat of his lips.

One finger trailed down my abdomen, down over my belly, through the neatly trimmed hair at the apex of my thighs and onto the small bundle of nerves hidden within. He teased and circled and stroked, drawing out moans and soft cries, and my fingers fluttered helplessly over the soft material of his shirt. His other palm pressed gently against my stomach until I sat down on the edge of the bed. "Lie back, sweet Ginevra," he instructed, and I did. He knelt down between my legs, lifting them to rest on his shoulders, and his mouth took the place of his questing finger, lavishing the same attention there as he had to my nipples.

He slipped a finger surely inside of me, joined quickly by a second, and curled them up to find _that _spot. I writhed under his skilled ministrations, trying to move my hips into him as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter deep within me, but his other hand was still on my abdomen, pressing me into the bed and holding me in place. It wasn't long before I cried out as I came undone, my fingers tangled in his soft hair.

When I came down from my high, he gently removed my thighs from his shoulders and stood, looking down at me with a very smug expression. "Still impressed?" he asked as he pulled off the shirt and waistcoat and lowered his own trousers.

"Very," I said honestly, all traces of teasing gone. I slid backwards up the bed until my head met the soft pillows at the head of it. He crawled after me. I would have probably looked awkward crawling on my hands and knees up the bed, but he managed to look graceful and elegant, like some great predatory cat.

He knelt between my legs and lowered himself on top of me, and I lifted my pelvis to meet him. His eyes locked with mine and he pushed his hard length into me with agonizing slowness. He halted, just barely inside me. I strained my hips up to meet him, but one hand came to my belly to press me flat against the bed.

"Please," I whimpered.

"I thought you liked to tease," he mocked me, but there was a strain in his voice; he was just a hairsbreadth away from losing control.

"Lucius!"

He groaned when he heard me call his name and he quickly sheathed himself inside me. He started to move, roughly driving in and out. I wrapped my legs about him, my hands twisting and gripping in the smooth coverlet underneath me. He was relentless and I lifted my hips to meet every stroke, the urgent slap of our bodies creating a steady, primal rhythm.

After an eternity, he slowed and shifted back for a moment, lifting my left leg over his shoulder, causing me to call his name again as he surged into me, deeper now. His hand came between us and he flicked at the tight bud of pleasure just above where our bodies were joined together, and it didn't take long until I came undone again, the rhythmic grip of my muscles triggering his own release.

He let my leg fall back to the bed and leaned over to kiss me, gently this time, both of us breathing hard from exertion. He dropped to the bed beside me, propped up on one arm as he faced me, and drew me against his chest before pulling the covers over us. "I assume you're suitably impressed, sweet Ginevra." He sounded so sure of himself.

I took a moment to peel my stockings off and drop them on the floor before I reached up and threaded my fingers through the soft hair that hung free beside his face as he looked down at me. "You'll do," I teased him.

He dropped his head to nip at the slope of my shoulder. "The way you were shouting my name seems to belie your words."

"Maybe, but I think if I told you how impressed I actually was, your head would get so big that it would explode. And I like your hair too much to explode it."

He laughed- a deep, rich sound that made me smile. "Just my hair?"

"Fishing for more compliments?"

"I wouldn't have to if you weren't so _stingy _with them."

I traced my finger along the line of his high cheekbone. "You should laugh more often, Lucius."

"I believe I will have more reason to with you around, my dear."

"You are gorgeous," I admitted, "but then I expect you know that."

"A compliment from these beautiful lips," he marveled, faintly mocking, and leaned down to kiss me again.

"Here's another then, if it earns me kisses. You should put more colors in your wardrobe," I observed. "I think you would look absolutely dashing in purple. Or blue."

"That was not a compliment, dear Ginevra."

"Potential compliment?"

He laughed again and leaned over to give me another gentle kiss. "To hear more compliments from those sweet lips, I may have to do that."

"If more people saw this side of you, I think they would be as taken with you as I am," I told him seriously, tracing my finger along his jaw. I could not get enough of touching him.

"Are you taken with me, then?" he asked, a very smug look coming over his face again.

"Would I be in your bed if I wasn't?"

"No, I don't imagine you would be." His lips met mine again, he seemed just as unable to stop himself as I was. "We didn't have pudding."

"I think someone was a little eager to take me up to bed. Why did you insist on the bed anyway, Lucius? I thought you mentioned something about the dining room table."

A slow smile crossed his face. "I simply wanted our first time together to be perfect; somewhere we could lie together after and enjoy each others' company in comfort and warmth."

"Are you... a romantic?" I teased, feigning shock.

"One of my _deepest_ secrets, I assure you," he answered, sounding very amused. "Not to worry, my dear, I'm certain there will be ample opportunity to take you on the dining room table, against the wall, across the desk in the library, on the sofa in the sitting room..."

"That's awfully specific," I observed, my voice catching as I considered what he was saying.

"I have envisioned us together in _awfully specific_ ways." He looked very smug again.

"Against the wall, are you sure you're up for that?" I asked, still teasing.

He bent his head and nipped lightly at my lower lip. "I suppose I'll just have to show you." He straightened up. "But for now, I could use some pudding. Kitty!" he called, and the house-elf appeared at the foot of the bed. "Bring the pudding and some wine, and then that will be all for the evening."

"Yes, Master." She disappeared and reappeared again with a single plate with a slice of some sort of cake, a fork, and a bottle of wine with two goblets. She deposited it all on the bed at my feet, and then disappeared again.

"Not worried about crumbs in the bed?" I asked.

"I am a _wizard_, dear Ginevra."

We propped ourselves up against the pillows and shared the cake and drank wine. We talked for a time until I began to feel myself getting sleepy. "I should go," I told him softly.

"You could stay," he suggested, leaning over to give me another light kiss.

"I'd better not," I said reluctantly. "I told my brother I would be home tonight and I don't want him to worry." I pulled gently free from his arms and slid out of bed. I could just send a Patronus, but my reluctance at leaving seemed like a pretty clear message that it was time to go.

He watched me move about the room, gathering my clothes. "I want to spend a weekend exploring you, sweet Ginevra."

That almost made me climb back into bed with him, but I resisted the urge. "I can't next weekend, I have a wedding to go to." On impulse I asked, "Is the invitation to spend Christmas with you still open?"

"It is indeed."

"Then I could come and visit for Christmas."

"Very good," he said with a smile. He got out of bed as well and pulled on a luxurious-looking green dressing gown and some house shoes before crossing to the door and pulling both my Ministry robes and my cloak down from the back of it.

As soon as I was finished getting dressed, he helped me into the robes and the cloak and then offered me his arm. We walked together back down to the room we'd flooed into.

I looked at the fireplace. "I don't want to go," I told him honestly.

"Then stay."

I sighed. "I shouldn't. But I'll be back."

"I'm already looking forward to it." His hand came to the small of my back and pulled me against him. He looked down at me for a moment before leaning over and kissing me. "I could _very easily_ convince you to stay." His tone was matter-of-fact and maybe just a little smug.

"I know you could," I agreed. I pulled away from him and took a handful of floo powder from the silver bowl sitting just above the fireplace so I could floo home.

The house was dark and quiet and I was careful not to make too much noise as I climbed the first set of stairs to my room. My bed was disappointingly cold and empty, and it took a while to fall asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Thank you for the fantastic response to the last chapter! *heart* There will be more citrusy elements (with warnings as appropriate) but for now... It's time for more plot! :D**

I spent Saturday helping Fleur and Bill decorate for Christmas and watched Victoire for the evening so they could get out for some time by themselves.

Sunday dinner was pretty subdued. Mum kept looking at me like she wanted to say something, but then Dad would do something- cough, clear his throat, fidget- and she would hold her tongue. Harry was absent for the first time in a long time. Ron explained that Harry was wrapped up in Auror business. George brought Angelina and they were so sweet together- and a distraction for Mum.

Monday, just before work, an unfamiliar owl came for me. I didn't recognize the handwriting on the outside of the rolled up parchment either and I was more than a little surprised when it turned out to be a note from Narcissa, inviting me to an early lunch on Saturday.

Narcissa was one of my more distant cousins, like Sirius. I'd seen her most recently at Sirius and Luna's wedding. We hadn't really spoken then, so getting a sudden letter from her meant she had to know about my evening with Lucius. But how could she know?

When Lucius swept in the office that morning, his eyes roved over me and there was a very knowing look on his face. "Miss Weasley, I am beginning to think that there is something wrong with your bed."

I looked up into his gray eyes. "Why's that?"

"It often seems that you don't get enough sleep."

"It's very lonely in my bed," I answered honestly.

"I'm certain I could solve that problem for you." He definitely sounded certain.

I felt the rush of warmth in my cheeks. "You probably take up the whole bed, don't you?" I asked after a moment. He definitely seemed like the type of man who slept very large.

"Perhaps." He finished taking his gloves off and put them in his cloak before hanging it beside the door. When he went past me, he leaned over to murmur directly in ear in that way that made my belly twinge. "Or perhaps I would spend the night entwined with your exquisite body."

The week seemed to crawl by. Lucius mostly behaved himself, but he still managed to find every opportunity to touch me- although it was never inappropriate and never in front of anyone else. When he looked at me, though, there was a knowing heat in his eyes like he was remembering how I looked without my clothes on. I was a little surprised and more than a little disappointed that he didn't ask me if I would change my mind about that weekend, but he seemed content to take me at my word. Well, maybe not content, judging by the look in his eyes, but at least he accepted it.

Finally I was seated in the restaurant I'd agreed to meet Narcissa at. I'd decided not to wear the dress robes I was going to wear to the wedding, figuring that if I needed to get out of there, I could use the excuse that I needed to go and get ready.

Narcissa was just as prompt as her ex-husband, and at precisely eleven, she was sitting opposite me, looking over her own menu. We both ordered food and something to drink- tea for her and water for me- and then we were left to it.

"I know about you and my ex-husband," she told me with absolutely no preamble, just as soon as the waitress left.

I nodded, trying not to let my anxiety show. "I thought you did when I got your invitation; you and I aren't exactly on lunching terms. How did you find out?" My tone was polite, even, as though we weren't discussing the fact that I'd slept with the man she'd only divorced a couple of months ago.

She considered me for a long moment and seemed impressed for some reason. "Kitty told me that you two spent an evening quite happily together. I have to admit, I was a little surprised when I heard. He is considerably older than you and I know that our families have quite often been at odds." She peered at me for a moment. "Are you after his wealth?"

I snorted at that. "No. If I just wanted money, I would have stayed with Harry." It was a safe bet that Harry wasn't nearly as wealthy as Lucius, but I knew he had enough gold in his vault that he could have a very comfortable life without the need to work.

She accepted that with a nod. "Why did you leave him, only to turn around and start an affair with a man over twice your age?"

It was my turn to stare at her. "I'm not sure how that's any of your business," I replied evenly.

She stared at me sharply. "He and I were not very well-matched. Nonetheless, I care for him very much," she continued. "Lucius and I have a son together and our lives will always be connected and if you hurt him, I will make sure you suffer." There was absolutely no emotion in her face, and I believed what she said without question. "I ask you again, Ginny, why did you leave Harry and then quite promptly start seeing my ex-husband?"

I wasn't aware we were on a first-name basis. I looked at her for a moment, considering what to tell her. It was better that she heard the truth from me than the speculation that was likely going to be in the newspapers just as soon as they got wind of our 'affair' as she called it. "My relationship with Harry was over before Lucius and I left for Canada, I just hadn't actually officially ended it yet."

"Why?" she pressed.

Our food came then, and I didn't have a chance to answer her until the waitress left again. "I'm not really sure how that's relevant."

"Because I'm in a position to know if Lucius is likely to do the same thing." She regarded me evenly for a moment. "I would spare him the additional heartache, if I could." Her recent threat hung between us well, though she didn't bring it up again.

"You know I had a career-ending injury?" At her brisk nod, I continued. "I've wanted to play Quidditch since I was six. Harry didn't understand why I couldn't immediately get over it." She didn't need to know the rest of it.

"Is that the only reason?" She was very shrewd, just like Lucius.

"It's one of the biggest reasons. It's also the reason that I was drawn to your ex-husband. He understood. Everyone else was more concerned with why wasn't living with Harry anymore, and he..." I smiled softly, I couldn't help it. "He showed me understanding."

She watched me for a long moment. "Your face lights up when you talk about him. Are you in love with him?"

I shook my head. "No," I said quickly.

"Then what are your intentions toward him?"

I lifted my chin and met her eyes defiantly. "We're using each other for sex."

To my surprise, her lips curved up into a smile. "You sound very certain of that."

That was not the reaction I expected. "That's what the arrangement is."

"Let me tell you something about Lucius, Ginny. The reason that he and I should have never gotten married is because we're too much alike. He needs someone with considerably more... fire. There was talk for a time that your mother would have been better suited for him."

My eyebrows flew up my forehead as I stared at her. Mum? With... Lucius? Was I dreaming? This had to be a dream. "He said you were betrothed since... 'practically since birth.'"

"We were. But there were a few times in his life when Abraxas considered more what would have made his son happy than what was best for the family." She leveled me with another even look. "Those moments were few and far between, and rarely ever swayed his decisions, but they did occur."

"And Mum would have made Lucius happy?" I was still having trouble wrapping my head around that.

"Happier, I think. Although I suspect he would have made her miserable. It's hard to dissuade her when she thinks she has the right of things."

That was an understatement, but I wasn't about to say that. "So what does that have to do with me?"

"You are, by all accounts, a lot like your mother. The question is, how much like her are you? Lucius is also very stubborn. Are you prepared to bend to let him get his way?" Her blue eyes bored into mine, completely devoid of emotion.

"We're not really... there."

She smiled again, like she knew something I didn't. "Lucius is not the type of man to spend time on a meaningless flirtation."

"He told me-"

She cut me off swiftly. "He's always had a rather uncanny ability to convince himself of things that aren't necessarily true. Are you ready for a serious relationship with him?"

"I don't know," I found myself answering, just as honest with her as I was with her ex-husband.

"Figure it out, and soon. He's turning 47 next month, you know." I hadn't known. "He wants more children." She looked at me for a moment and this time her smile was grim. "From your expression, I take it he hasn't expressed this. Yes, we lost quite a few during pregnancy before I managed to carry Draco to term." Her face was now completely blank.

I'd been gaping at her. "I'm sorry," I offered softly, and she accepted it with a brisk nod.

"Regardless of what he may have told you, Lucius doesn't have meaningless affairs. The fact that he invited you to spend Christmas with him indicates that his intentions towards you are quite serious, whether or not he's willing to admit it."

I was absolutely speechless. I shook my head, but she stopped me with a look. "We were married over 25 years, I trust you will take my word for it. And if you're not prepared for that, then you need to go to him and end whatever it is you think you have between you before you hurt him."

"You're... ok with all of this?" I asked her, and it was my turn to give her a sharp look.

"I told you that I care for him; I want to see him happy. Our marriage was a lot more like a business arrangement, and while it does irk me that you in particular might make him happy where I could not, I am coming to realize that's more a reflection of who he is, rather than any failing of mine."

"That sounds a lot like something Luna would say," I observed.

"That's because she is the one who first said it." She looked at me again, and her expression seemed to soften. "His mother was quite a bit younger than Abraxas was. She died in childbirth when she was the age you are now. He has had little softness or warmth in his life, Ginny, but his unfamiliarity with it is not a lack of desire for it." She regarded me for another moment. "In fact, I believe he craves it."

"This is very... Strange," I admitted. "Talking to you about Lucius, and the idea that you don't mind that we're..." I didn't know what word to finish that with. We weren't together, not really. But apparently our arrangement wasn't as casual as I'd thought, either.

"Don't make me have to mind," she cautioned me, and the threat hung between us again. "If you decide to go forward with this, I rather imagine that you and I will spend a lot of time talking together. Lucius and I have been a part of each others' lives for the majority of our lives and that isn't going to change now that we no longer share a name." She paused for a moment, her blue eyes again cold. "Decide soon."

My mind was whirling when I headed home to get ready for the wedding. She was wrong, right? She had to be wrong. Lucius couldn't be... He'd told me that we were just going to use each other.

And I certainly wasn't feeling anything for him... Was I?

The sex had been fantastic. Harry had been a virgin when we'd gotten together. I had not, but up until that point, my other experiences had also been with less experienced boys. Things between us had always been passionate and eager, but not exactly practiced. Lucius shagged like he knew what he was doing- and he was concerned that I had a good time. To be fair, Harry always had been too, but he lacked the confidence to take control like Lucius had. And I'd really enjoyed that.

And I could also talk to him- and speak my mind freely, without being worried that he was going to take something I said the wrong way. Then again, I wasn't really worried that Lucius would take anything I said the wrong way. I'd already called him a bastard and insulted his father to his face and he hadn't even really flinched.

I found myself wondering how Lucius argued. I was a yeller, like my mum. Harry was too. He'd yell, and then he'd leave for a while before anything was resolved, and that always hurt.

I wasn't over Harry, not completely. The fact that I was comparing Lucius to him proved that I wasn't over him. But did the fact that I was comparing my very casual lover to my former long-term boyfriend mean that I was starting to have feelings for Lucius as well?


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! :D **

I got ready for the wedding. I'd been planning on going with Harry but, of course, that wasn't happening so I just went by myself. I had a brief temptation to ask Lucius to accompany me, but that was swiftly banished with a giggle. That would _not _go over well, on either part.

I got dressed in the same dress robes I'd bought for the trip abroad and a pair of matching heels. I was a little nervous about going. Harry was actually a part of the wedding party, he and Neville worked together in addition to being friends. And, of course, the gossip was running rampant in a couple of newspapers. Harry and I had split up and there was endless speculation, most of which cast me as the villain, so everyone knew and there was a chance that people would have 'chosen sides.' I didn't really care what anyone said about me, but I didn't want to spoil their day.

The wedding was to be held at Neville's Gran's home. Inside, of course, because it was very cold and wet outside. It wasn't as large as Malfoy Manor, but it was still a very stately old home, immaculately clean and well-furnished.

I bundled up in my cloak and Apparated there and was quickly shown inside. My cloak was taken from me and I was shown to a seat with Luna, Sirius, and Hermione. Luna was radiant, pregnancy really seemed to agree with her. "You look really good," I told her.

"Thank you," she said with a soft smile. "I feel really good right now, but every night just after dinner I start to feel very sick. I'm glad this is happening in the afternoon."

George and Angelina came to sit in our row as well, along with Seamus. The wedding wasn't quite as big as Fleur and Bill's had been, but Augusta Longbottom seemed determined to make it an event.

Neville was standing at the end of the room, looking very smart in his dress robes. He'd completely lost all of his childhood chubbiness and now was tall and lean and honestly rather dashing. Ron and Harry were standing up there with him, they all looked quite good.

After just a short time, Hannah walked up beside Neville and the ceremony started. Harry kept staring at me throughout the wedding, it was a little uncomfortable. Needless to say, I was a little relieved when the happy couple kissed to seal their marriage and then we all stood up so the room could be quickly rearranged for dancing. There were chairs and tables clustered around the outside of the ballroom to give everyone room to dance. Hermione went off to find Ron and I had a seat with George and Angelina.

It seemed like most of the people attending the wedding weren't too worried about the speculation in the paper. Most of them still remembered the big coverup about Voldemort's return and the nasty rumors that had been spread during that time, and didn't give the papers too much credit. Almost all of the old D.A. was there, and it was nice to catch up with everyone.

"Everyone hugs at a wedding," Luna had observed, and it seemed to be true. People I hadn't seen since leaving school, except for the annual End-of-War Anniversary celebrations, came and caught up and we exchanged hugs.

Seamus asked me to dance a couple of times and so did some of the Aurors. It wasn't so bad, except every so often I would catch Harry watching me.

I was just sitting down again when Sirius came up to me and asked, "How about a dance with your cousin?" as he offered me his hand.

"Sure," I replied with a grin. We went out and started dancing. He was a good dancer, though not quite as perfect as Lucius. "Are you spending Christmas at Hogwarts?" I asked him.

"Spending it at old Grimmauld," he told me. He put on a haughty accent. "The family home." I had to giggle at that. In his normal voice, he continued, "We'll stop by to see your family, of course, but apparently it's going to be Christmas with Narcissa."

"And Draco," I said without thinking.

He narrowed his eyes a little. "Yes."

"Malfoy told me."

He let it go. "She's apparently very excited about the baby. Luna's been keeping in touch with her."

"That's nice, though. Having a big family is noisy, but it's a lot of fun."

"Even when you don't get along all the time?" he asked pointedly. "Or approve of what they're doing?"

I winced. "Even then," I replied with a sincere nod. "You know how I feel about Percy, but I'm glad he's coming around again. Having him being an actual part of the family makes Mum happy, no matter how much of a git he still is." That's not what he'd been referring to, and both of us knew it.

But he let it go. "He is a git."

"He is. But he's _our_ git, you know?"

"I know exactly what you mean. What are you doing for Christmas, Ginny?" His gray eyes were peering at me sharply. Where Lucius' eyes were frosty, Sirius' eyes were open and warm.

"I'm not sure," I replied slowly. "I haven't talked about it with Bill and Fleur, yet." _And I've agreed to spend it with someone no one in the family likes_. "I think they might be planning to see Mum and Dad on Boxing Day."

"That's what we're doing," he said. "If that affects your plans at all." He really didn't miss much. "Molly was a little put out when she realized Luna wouldn't be there to stuff with Christmas dinner."

"She was like this when Fleur was pregnant, too. She wants a Quidditch pitch worth of grandchildren. Both teams." I had to grin. "Have you missed the hints she's been dropping at the rest of us?"

"Not technically a grandchild," he said ruefully.

"Just as much a grandchild as Teddy," I told him firmly. "And you know Mum and Dad love Teddy very much." I caught sight of Harry staring at me again, and my heart sank. "I shouldn't have come," I muttered.

There was a bit of sympathy in his eyes. "I know we're staying out of it, Ginny, but I'm sorry it didn't work out between you."

"I am too," I replied earnestly.

The song finished and we went over to the table he'd been sharing with Luna. Luna stood up as we approached. "I'm going to have to leave now, or I'm very likely to start being sick all over the place. I don't think that's quite the right sort of mood for a wedding."

"Are you alright, love?" Sirius asked her, concerned.

"No. I think watching everyone spinning around in circles is not agreeing with me at all."

I hugged her and Sirius and watched them say goodbye to the happy couple, then they flooed back to Hogwarts. Poor Luna. I snagged a champagne flute from a passing floating tray and sat down at the table.

Harry came and sat down in the chair Luna had just vacated. "Hello, Ginny," he greeted quietly.

"Hi, Harry."

"Do you want to dance?" His green eyes behind his glasses were so serious. When I hesitated, he continued, "We were friends, Ginny. Can't we still be friends?"

"Why don't we just sit and talk, then?" I asked. "Probably be a little easier on my feet, anyway." I tried for levity.

He either didn't notice or didn't appreciate it. "Right. We can do that."

I ran my finger around the base of my champagne flute. I could feel his eyes on me as I stared at the table.

"So how are you?" he asked after a while.

"Good, I'm good. How are you?"

"Fine." I glanced up to see he looked just as uncomfortable as I felt.

"How's training going?" I asked after another moment.

"Good. It's nice to be getting down to the end." He still had six or seven months left, but I guess compared to the three years the training took, it was getting down to the end. He waited just a couple of seconds and then asked, "So are you seeing anyone?" The lightness in his voice was forced, and covered something a lot more desperate.

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes squarely. "I beg your pardon?" I asked politely as though I hadn't heard him properly.

He ducked his head down, it was his turn to look away. "I'm just curious. I still care about you."

"I came alone, didn't I?" It was impossible to keep all of the bite out of my voice.

"Right." He paused for another few seconds. "Do you want to go somewhere and get a drink sometime?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Harry. Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Because I still care about you. It would hurt you, which would hurt me. I can't." I stood and walked away from him and the table, using the excuse that I was going to go and sit with my brother again. I wished I had a good excuse to leave, like Luna and Sirius had. Well, a good excuse without actually being pregnant. I wondered how long it would be until I could politely leave.

Thankfully, Neville and Hannah soon cut the cake and left, which meant that I could slip back home, and I did so gratefully.

"How was it?" Bill asked. He was tidying up the sitting room from Victoire's toys.

"Well, it wasn't interrupted by Death Eaters, so it felt a little like there was something missing." I stepped out of my heels and helped him pick up.

"A wedding just isn't complete until you've been questioned by an Auror," he replied mock-seriously.

"Does, 'Do you want to dance?' count?"

"In the absence of, 'Why would people want to attack you at your wedding like that?' it'll do."

I put the last of the toys in the small basket he was holding and then went to sit down with him on the sofa. "What were you and Fleur thinking about doing for Christmas? Still going to see Mum and Dad on Boxing Day?"

"As far as I know." He settled himself beside me.

"That's what Sirius and Luna are going to do, too."

"How is Luna?" Fleur asked, coming down the stairs to join us. She'd likely just put Victoire down for a nap.

"Sick," I replied. "They had to leave early."

"I will have to give her _Grandmere_'s remedy," she mused, sitting on Bill's other side. "I will owl her tomorrow."

"I was thinking of... not... spending Christmas here," I ventured, returning to the previous conversation. "Not that I don't appreciate it," I rushed on to say.

"Christmas with a friend?" Bill asked.

I nodded. I could at least define whatever was between us as friendship, right? Regardless of what Narcissa said and whether or not there was any truth to it, seeing Harry like that made me even want to see Lucius even more. I recognized there was a little bit of rebelliousness in the idea, but we had a casual arrangement, why shouldn't I go and spend more time with my lover?

"The same friend you were out with last weekend?"

I nodded again, trying to be nonchalant about it but I could feel the rush of warmth in my cheeks. "But I'll be back on Boxing Day."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! :D**

**We're having some more racy, lemony times. **

On Friday afternoon, just before it was time to leave, I went to the door into Lucius' inner office and knocked briefly before opening it.

He glanced up at me over his spectacles. "Just a moment, Miss Weasley." He finished whatever he was writing out and put his quill down before looking up at me. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you still want me to come and visit you?" I asked quietly.

His lips turned up into a predatory smile and his eyes swept over me. "Most certainly," was all he said.

I hesitated. "What time should I..."

"Join me for dinner on Christmas Eve." That was Sunday. "Floo in around four."

"Christmas Eve at four. Right." My heart sped up a little.

"And bring your gloves, dear Ginevra. Apparently I was somewhat_ lax_ in my manners the last time you came to my home and this time I'll give you a proper tour." He took the spectacles off and put them in his breast pocket. "Allow me to walk you out to the floos."

"Of course." He did most nights now.

I went back to my desk and finished tidying it up. We weren't coming back to work until Wednesday, the day after Boxing Day, and I didn't want to come back to a mess.

He came past me and took his cloak down from the hook, putting it on before taking mine down as well. I joined him by the door and he pressed it around my shoulders, his fingers brushing along my collarbone. He offered me his arm as we walked down to the lifts, his walking stick held loosely in the other hand. After a moment's hesitation, I took it. This was something he'd never done before at work. Luna probably would have gotten away with it because she was Luna, but I felt like everyone was watching us in disapproval. In truth, I didn't think anyone actually noticed.

* * *

Because I was going to be spending Christmas away, Fleur insisted on exchanging gifts on Christmas Eve before I left. We sat in the sitting room and socialized until it was time to go. I knew they heard my destination when I picked up my suitcase and flooed to Malfoy Manor, but that something to worry about later.

Lucius was waiting for me, seated in a nearby chair. As soon as I came through, he was up and extending his hand to me to help me out of the fireplace. He was not wearing robes, I noticed, just black trousers, a deep blue shirt, and a charcoal-colored waistcoat. "Dear Ginevra," he greeted me and lifted my hand to press his mouth against it, his lips catching against my skin in that way that caused that twinge in my belly. I wanted to throw my things down and leap at him, but if he was going to be civilized, then I could as well. "Did you bring gloves?" he asked.

"Yes, I brought gloves," I retorted. "They're in my suitcase, on top of everything else."

"Very good," he praised. "I intend to show you the better parts of the estate tomorrow when it's a little brighter out."

"Is it snowing here too?" I asked, curious. It had been snowing at Shell Cottage on and off since Friday night.

"Quite a bit, we may have to melt our way through it. For now, let me show you around."

"You know I'm going to just get lost anyway," I told him.

"Then you'll simply have to stay quite close to me." He showed me the sitting room where the Christmas tree was elegantly done up in silver and dark blue. There was a formal dining room with an impossibly long table, a ballroom with a wooden floor polished to the point of gleaming, his study, and an immense library that would have made Hermione want to stay there and never leave. There were many doors we passed that we didn't go in.

"This seems awfully large for just one person," I told him as I walked through the library, looking at the different books that filled the shelves.

"It is," he admitted. "It does get lonely here. Draco visits from time to time, but of course he's a young man and he would rather not live with his father."

"Then it's a good thing I'm here." I stopped about halfway through the room and turned to look at him. "You're not going to show me your room?" I asked with forced lightness, my heart racing.

"You've already seen it, if I recall correctly." He stalked towards me, graceful and dangerous, his cold gray eyes locked on mine.

"To be fair, I had my eyes closed for a good portion of the time we were there."

He stopped just in front of me, and took a lock of my hair in his fingers. "I'm afraid it's likely to be the same this time as well."

My head was back so that I could look up into his face. "I thought you had enough rooms that we could sleep further away from each other than we were in the hotel."

"I rather _doubt_ that's why you're here."

"Why am I here then?" I asked, daring him to respond.

He didn't disappoint. His head came down towards me until he caught my lower lip between both of his, drawing it gently into his mouth. Not a kiss, not really, and he pulled away after just a second. "Something like that, perhaps?"

It took a few seconds for me to find my voice. "Perhaps."

"You are entirely too tempting, sweet Ginevra."

His hair was gathered at the nape of his neck with a black tie and, on impulse, I pressed myself against him and reached up behind him and pulled it free. "I like the way your hair feels," I told him, running my fingers along his scalp, combing them through his hair.

He stood back from me, dropping my hair, and offered me his arm. I took it, and he pressed his free hand over mine. "If you keep pressing that _delicious_ body against me like that, I'm going to take you across that desk over there."

Another twinge, deep in my belly. "That one?" I asked, leaning up against him and point to the solid, dark desk over by the wall.

"Keep taunting me and see what happens," he warned me in that low voice and I wondered how I was going to get through dinner without turning into a quivering lump of jelly. I let him lead me back through the house to the smaller dining room, where he pulled out my chair for me and I sat down.

"I'm glad we're eating in here again," I told him. "I was afraid I was going to have to get a broom just to pass you the salt."

He smiled as he sat gracefully opposite me. "I prefer to eat in here when I can. The formal dining room has _unpleasant_ memories."

"Is that why a lot of the rooms are shut up?" I asked gently.

"Some of them, yes. One of the many _discussions_ I had with Narcissa. She has the same associations with them as I do, and I refused to hire someone to redo the rooms on the basis that, as the lady of the house, it was under her purview. I'm afraid I rather understand her reluctance now."

The same house-elf that had served us before brought us both a plate of delicious-looking food. Lucius poured us each a goblet of wine. I debated telling him about my meeting with Narcissa, but decided against it for the time being. There would be enough time to get around to it later.

"You do look really good in blue," I told him, and he smiled at me.

"Thank you, dear Ginevra."

We ate, and then when we were done, he came around to help me up from my chair again. "Would you care to dance with me?"

I smiled. "I would love to."

He offered me his arm and we walked together toward the ballroom.

"How do you not get lost in this house?" I asked, only half-joking.

"I've lived here my entire life."

"Oh, that long?" I teased him.

He turned towards me and stepped determinedly into me. I took a step back by reflex, and he kept going until I was backed up against the wall, held there by his solid body against mine. "Dear Ginevra," he drawled, and I couldn't look away from the dark gleam in his eyes. "I've watched you swish around that office for the past two weeks now, and my control is only goes so far. Either we can go to the ballroom and dance like _civilized _people, or you can keep pressing me and I'll show you _exactly_ what happens to witches who tease."

"I wasn't aware you were civilized," slipped out before I could really stop myself.

He swiftly caught my wrists in one hand and held them against the wall above my head, his other hand busy at the fastening of my jeans. He kept his eyes locked with mine, a very predatory look on his face.

In no time, my jeans dropped from my hips and I cooperated by toeing off my trainers and stepping out of the pool of my jeans. He shifted to my side, pinning me in place with his hip heavy against mine. I could feel him, hard and almost scorching even through the dark material of his trousers. His hand settled for a moment on my leg, fingers digging in just a little before running up to my hip and over my knickers. He trailed one warm finger along the elastic for a moment before slipping down inside. He immediately found his target, ghosting just his fingertip over the eager bundle of nerves between my legs. His touch was maddeningly feather-light and achingly slow, just enough to tease.

I strained my hips toward him, unable to really move from the vise-like grip he had on my wrists and the pressure of his lower body pressing me against the wall. "Lucius," I moaned, pleading.

"What do you need, sweet Ginevra?" he asked as though he had no idea that he was driving me mad.

"Touch me, please!"

He touched me in earnest, his finger sliding surely over my sensitive skin. My eyes closed and my head fell back against the wall as I lost myself to the pleasure that was building and building and then, just as I was about to completely come undone, he stopped.

"Lucius," I moaned again.

"Yes?" He was infuriatingly calm.

"Please!" I begged.

"Please what?" he taunted me.

"I want- I need-" I couldn't form coherent thoughts, let alone a sentence.

He made a slow circle around my eager nub. "That?"

"More!"

He did it again, and then again, moving faster each time he circled around. I was moving against him as much as I could, unable to keep still. He stopped again.

"Lucius!" I cried out, my fingernails digging into my palms.

His lips crashed down on mine and I kissed him eagerly. His mouth held the essence of the red wine we'd had with dinner, his tongue dominating my own. He touched me again, and it was just a few quick strokes before I whimpered into the kiss as I found my release, more intensely than I'd ever felt anything before. My head felt like it was going to float away and I was sure that if he hadn't been holding me up, I would have slid to the floor.

Before I had a chance to recover, he stepped away from me just enough to free himself from his trousers. His hand released my wrists and slid down to my waist, immediately lifting me up against the wall and pinning me there with his body. He guided my legs up around his hips and pulled my knickers aside to shove his hard length into me.

My shoulders ached a little as I lowered my hands to grip the smooth material over his shoulders. His hands were under me, holding me up as he thrust himself roughly into me. Being pressed up so close to him caused a delicious friction in just the right spot and I could feel the pleasure begin to coil in my belly again.

His fingers dug into me and I could hear his breathing grow ragged as he began to lose control, and that was enough to send me over the edge again, head back, fingers digging into his shoulders. This time he joined me, coming with a low groan that filled the hall. He leaned forward to rest his head against the wall as he caught his breath.

After a moment, he lowered me gently to the floor and I wobbled, clutching him tightly for balance. "Did you learn your lesson?" he asked as he straightened up and tucked himself back into his trousers.

"No," I answered coyly. "You'll probably have to show me that particular lesson again."

"Very good," he all-but-purred, looking immensely pleased with himself.

My knees were threatening to give out. "I don't think I'm up for dancing anymore, Lucius."

"Do I need to carry you?" he asked, amused.

"I'll manage," I assured him. I leaned against the wall for balance while I pulled my jeans back on.

"I hadn't planned on that happening quite so soon in the evening," he told me. "Now we have the rest of the night before us. Would you care to join me in the sitting room?"

I took his arm and bent down to pick up my shoes, using him to steady myself as I straightened back up. "Actually... I don't know how this fits in with the whole using-each-other thing, but I really just want to sit with you while you hold me for a while." I was worried that he was going to say no, that he didn't want that kind of intimacy with me.

"We can stop in at the library, and then head up to bed," he informed me gently, almost tenderly.

"Mm, that sounds lovely." I was a little relieved.

We went to the library and I selected a book from one of the towering shelves, and then we went up to his room together. He got completely undressed and put on his spectacles- reading glasses, I had come to realize- and got into bed, sitting propped up against the multitude of pillows. I quickly stripped and slipped in under the covers next to him and leaned back against his side. He wrapped one arm securely around me, the other free to turn the pages of his own book. I tried to read, but I found I was much too lost in thought to get much of it done.

"Are you all right, dear Ginevra?" he asked after a time.

"I am. Just thinking." I was idly tracing the Dark Mark on his arm. I'd never seen one quite so closely. I'd noticed it the first time I'd come to his house, of course, but I hadn't really seen it. It was faded now like an old scar, the texture just slightly smoother than the rest of his skin.

"Does that bother you?"

I thought about it for a moment before I shook my head. "Did it hurt?"

"It burned my soul." His voice was raw, vulnerable, and I turned my head to kiss his shoulder, abandoning my book to cuddle his arm against me. "It took so much from me."

"Was it worth it?"

"On the whole, no."

"Why did you do it?"

He was silent for a moment and he shut the book, marking his place with his finger. "It made sense for the man I was raised to be. All of the old pureblood ideals, that Muggles and Muggle-borns are _vastly_ inferior. He had a way of finding out what you wanted the most and presenting it to you on a silver platter, if only you would give him unquestioning loyalty."

"What did you want most?"

"Power, of course, because one is always taught that with enough power, one can have whatever one wants."

"That's not an answer, Lucius." I gave his shoulder another gentle kiss.

"I wanted prosperity. Not wealth, the Malfoys have always had more than enough of that. I wanted prosperity in my family. I wanted..." He trailed off and was silent for a time. "And I wanted the security to protect that prosperity from influences that could harm it. What better security than being the trusted lieutenant of the man who would rule all of Britain?" He paused again. "Of course, he was the very man who took that security away from me, on a whim, as though it had never mattered to him." His fingers brushed a gentle caress against my side. "It hadn't, of course. If that's not what's bothering you, do you wish to discuss what is?"

I shook my head. "Not yet." I was going over and over what Narcissa had told me. From what he'd just said, he did want more children. If that was still true, then maybe the bit about him not being able to have a casual relationship was, too.

He pressed a kiss to the hair at the back of my head. "Then I shall just have to distract you." He gently took the book from me and placed it away from us on the bed, just beside his. He grasped my waist and pulled me gently in front of him, between his legs, my back pressed up against his chest. His hands came up my back to rest on my shoulders and he started kneading my muscles.

I hummed my appreciation. "That feels so good." I felt him kiss the back of my head again. "You're not going to push me for an answer?"

"To what end? You always come to me with honesty, and I imagine that when you're ready to do so, you will."

"When's your birthday?" She'd mentioned that it was next month.

He stilled for just a moment, a short enough time that I wondered if I'd imagined it. "The end of January."

"What do you want? You know, I had a hard time figuring out what to get you for Christmas."

"You," he replied, his hands running down my shoulders and around my sides to rest gently on my belly.

"I think I can arrange that," I told him, leaning back against his chest. My head tucked neatly under his chin and his long hair spilled down to rest on my own.

"When is your birthday?" he asked after a moment.

"Months away. August."

"And what would you like?"

My hand froze where I'd been trailing my fingers gently along the side of his leg. _Will we still be doing... this?_ "I'll let you know," I replied lightly. "After all, I'll probably change my mind 50 times between now and then."

He didn't miss the hesitation. He was many things, but Lucius Malfoy was not stupid. He didn't comment on it, though, for which I was relieved. Somehow, this seemed infinitely more daunting than talking about why he'd been a Death Eater.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: More sexytimes because these two cannot keep their hands off each other, for reals.**

**Thank you for the reviews! (heart) Katie- I have plans for poor Draco! LOL Concrete63- Definitely! **

I woke up in the morning, my legs entangled with Lucius'. He did take up the larger portion of the bed, being roughly in the middle of it, but he was also definitely a nighttime cuddler. When we'd settled down to sleep, he'd pulled me close so that I was using his shoulder as a pillow and turned toward me so he could wrap his arm around me.

I propped myself up on my elbow to watch him sleeping. He looked younger when he was sleeping, like he did when he smiled, and so completely at peace. His silver-blond hair was spread across the dark blue pillowcase, contrasting sharply where it mingled with mine.

I gently pulled away from him to visit the adjoining lavatory and when I came back he had shifted to his back but was still sound asleep. I regarded him for a moment and then I had a wicked idea.

I slipped back into bed with him and under the blankets, down to where his rather impressive length was already stirring with morning hardness. I settled myself alongside him and took him into my mouth.

I could tell when he woke up, his muscles tensed and one of his hands came to rest on the back of my head. He started thrusting his hips up into my mouth but I shifted so that I was straddling his thighs, keeping him in place.

His hands caught in my hair and closed around my head. "Ginevra," he urged, his voice strained as he gently tried to tug my head up. "Ginevra, you must-" His entire body stiffened and then shuddered as the salty tang of his release flooded my mouth.

I swallowed and sat back on his thighs, lifting the covers off of my head to rest on my shoulders. His hands fell from my head and rested gently on my thighs. "Morning, Lucius," I greeted him with a grin. "Must what?" I inquired sweetly.

His eyes were still half-closed as he peered at me through his pale eyelashes, a look of contentment on his face. "Dear Ginevra, you are making me regret not insisting you stay here overnight earlier."

I rested my hand on his hip. "I'm here now."

"I'm very glad of it." His voice was surprisingly tender.

We showered together and he insisted I get properly dressed before we went down to breakfast. He made a wry face at my jeans but didn't say anything. He was a little surprised when I took his hairbrush from his hand and told him to have a seat, but he sat quietly and let me brush out his long, silver-blond hair. When I was done, he tied his hair back again.

I pulled his wrapped gift out of my suitcase before I took his arm for us to go down to the informal dining room. Breakfast was waiting for us, served with coffee and fresh pumpkin juice. His house elf- Kitty- disappeared with his gift while we ate, presumably putting it under the Christmas tree.

After we ate, he led me back into the sitting room with the large tree. There were a few gifts wrapped beneath it, including the one I had for him. He picked up a small flat package and handed it to me before pulling out his own and coming to sit beside me.

"You first," I told him, and he obligingly unwrapped his gift. "It's not much, but I really didn't know what to get the man who probably has two of everything."

He held out his palm and a little likeness of me in my Harpies robes was standing on it, clutching a tiny Firebolt and smiling and waving at him. His gray eyes flew up to mine. "These aren't for sale." It was almost a challenge.

I shook my head. "That's the only one there is. They were going to be produced for sale starting at the beginning of the month, but then I was injured."

He watched the tiny Ginny walking around his hand for a moment. "Are you certain you want me to have it?"

"You're the one who's helping me move on," I said softly. "Even if I leave here tomorrow and I never see you again, I want you to have it."

"Be assured, dear Ginevra, that will not happen. I confess I am worried that when you've completely adjusted to life without Harry and Quidditch, you'll no longer have need for me, either." He was looking at me again, his face carefully neutral.

"Don't do that," I told him. "Don't shut down your emotions."

He looked at the tree for a moment and when he looked back, there was a vulnerability in his cold eyes.

I rested my hand gently on his cheek. "I don't know, Lucius," I admitted. "I can't tell you what the future holds. I can tell you that there is no where else I'd rather be right in this moment, and that I can't see wanting to be anywhere else. I worry too. Now that you've had me, will you get tired of me? What if we... no longer want the same thing?" I could see the denial on his face, but I shook my head and smiled. "This is a bit heavy for Christmas morning, isn't it?"

"Open yours," he suggested.

I carefully opened the silver wrapping paper to show a small, black box. I opened it to reveal a delicate silver-colored chain with a beautiful horse pendant. "It's beautiful," I marveled.

"You mentioned that your Patronus is a horse. Allow me." He gently set the tiny Ginny on the ottoman and was holding his hand out for the box.

I handed it back to him and turned my back, lifting my hair out of the way. "I don't remember telling you that."

"You didn't, I overheard you mention it at one of those meetings when one of those young wizards was trying _desperately_ to impress you. They all wanted to see what you keep hidden away behind those prim Ministry robes." He sounded a little smug as he draped the necklace around my neck and fastened it in the back, his fingers lingering against the skin at the nape of my neck.

"Do you have a Patronus?"

His hands rested gently on my shoulders. "While I'm certain I could, I didn't have a _need_ to repel Dementors." His tone was a little imperious again and it made me giggle.

"I'm sure you're powerful enough to cast one," I told him. "I was just curious. I could teach you to do it, if you want. You just need a happy memory."

His fingers tightened on my shoulders. "I seem to be collecting a great many of those lately," he murmured, leaning forward to kiss the side of my neck. His fingers traced the chain of the necklace. "It's platinum."

"Speaking of trying to impress me, right?" I teased.

His fingers closed over my shoulders and pulled me backwards a little. "I was under the impression I had already done so." His mouth was hovering just beside my ear and I couldn't help but shiver.

"Maybe," I teased.

"Just-" he nipped where my skin was exposed by the collar of my jumper, "-maybe?"

"Perhaps."

He eased me back until I was resting against his chest. His hands slid over my shoulders and down to cup my breasts just for a moment before continuing down to the waist of my jeans. His fingers busied themselves at the button of my jeans. "Perhaps I shall have to try again." Once unbuttoned, his hand slid inside, under my knickers. "This, dear Ginevra, would be considerably easier if you weren't wearing these dreadful denim trousers." He unerringly found his target, his finger dancing over the tight bundle of nerves.

"They're called-" I gasped, having trouble forming coherent thoughts.

"Yes?" he drawled out, never stilling his movements.

I made to clutch at his arm, but he caught my wrists in his other hand and held them easily to the side. "Lucius!" I breathed.

"I rather doubt that," he replied, sounding amused.

I completely abandoned whatever I'd been trying to say and let myself get lost to the sensations Lucius was drawing from me.

"When you first came into my office in your very proper blouse and dark skirt, I had a vision of bending you over my desk, pulling your skirt up around your hips, and burying myself within you." His words made me moan, pushing myself into his skilled touch. "You're so beautiful when you come, sweet Ginevra. Will you come for me?" I was getting close, the coil of pleasure tightening in my lower body. "That's it, just like that." The pressure of his finger increased just a little and the bubble of pleasure inside me burst with a gasp, sending warmth flooding through my body. "There we go." He released my wrists and removed his hand from my knickers, fastening my jeans back up. "Well?" he prompted.

"Well what?" I asked, relaxing against him as he draped his arms around me.

"Impressed?"

"Mm, getting there," I practically purred contentedly.

"Very good."

I rested my hands over his, lacing my fingers between his. "You don't have to sound so bloody pleased with yourself, though."

"It's a matter of great pride for a wizard to know that he can bring a lady pleasure. I have _heard_ that there are some who lack the capability."

"You definitely don't have anything to worry about there." I smiled appreciatively. "Why don't you like jeans, anyway?"

I felt his chest rise and fall with his haughty sniff. "They are hardly _suitable_ for a lady to wear."

I snorted. "I'm hardly a lady."

"I beg to differ, my dear."

"You know, I wear them quite a lot."

He kissed the top of my head. "I am fairly certain that I could convince you not to, from time to time." He sounded very sure of himself.

"I think you could," I agreed.

"Allow me to show you the grounds."

I pulled away from him and stood up. "That would be lovely. I can tell you that if it's snowing here like it was at my brother's house, I'm going to be awfully glad I'm wearing these 'dreadful' jeans." I grinned.

"Kitty," he said, and in a moment the house-elf appeared in front of us. "Fetch Ginevra's cloak and gloves from my room." There was no 'please,' but he wasn't unkind.

"Yes, Master." She vanished and was back only a moment later, holding my bundled up cloak with the gloves resting on top. "Missy Ginevra needs to wear gloves," she told me, a fair amount of censure in her tone.

"Thank you," I told her, taking them. "I will." She vanished and I turned to Lucius, who looked infinitely amused. "Did you put her up to that?"

"Indeed not," was all he said.

"You seem to treat her better than your last house-elf," I observed. Kitty's pillowcase dress was neat and white and she didn't have any bandages or scrapes.

"Quite. Another hard lesson, to be sure, and one that repeated itself through the efforts of your Mr Potter."

I gave him an exasperated look. "Lucius, if he was mine, I don't really think I'd be here, do you?"

"My apologies, dear Ginevra, it was merely a turn of phrase."

I pulled the gloves on first, and then Lucius helped me with my cloak. "You know I can do that for myself," I said lightly.

"I am well aware. A gentleman likes to be useful."

I didn't really know what to say to that. We were all raised with manners- please, thank you, don't put your elbows on the table. This, though, the standing when I enter the room, insisting on flooing first so he could help me out of the fireplace, helping me with my cloak and my chair; this was all new. Not unwelcome, I had come to realize. It was nice. Flattering. Hermione probably would have railed about not needing a man to do those things for her, but Lucius always seemed to give the impression that he was doing it because he thought I deserved the extra attention, not that I _needed_ the help.

I fastened my cloak and walked with him out to the foyer, where his own cloak was hanging on a stand meant for that purpose. "How many house-elves do you have?" I asked.

"Only two at this time. Much of the house is shut up right now and there's only person living here." He pulled on his own cloak, and then the leather gloves, and then offered me his arm again. I took it and we went outside, pausing only for him to pick up his snake-headed walking stick from the stand beside the door.

It wasn't snowing anymore. The snow was fairly deep, halfway up my calves in places, but the long drive and the path leading around the side of the house had been cleared off. We walked together along the path. Malfoy Manor was surrounded by a snow-covered lawn on all sides. At the back of the house, there were hedges set out in a pattern and something that I assumed was a fountain, the path cleared all the way around it. There were benches, also cleared off, and little mounds in the snow that I could only assume were flower beds. In the distance was a stand of trees and a building beside them.

"Is that yours too?" I asked, pointing to the trees.

"Everything you see."

"You are disgustingly wealthy, aren't you?" I asked lightly.

"Quite," he replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Where does all this money come from?" I asked curiously. "And yes, I understand it's extremely rude to ask someone about their finances."

He gave me an indulgently amused look as we set off towards the trees. He held his walking stick before us, melting the snow in our path. "The Malfoys have always invested wisely, both in the wizarding world and in the Muggle world."

I gave him a sharp look. "You take in Muggle money?"

"Of course. One must maximize one's portfolio. All of the wealthy pureblood families do and pretend they don't. It's the absolute _height_ of hypocrisy." He sounded just a little like he was mocking himself. "And we have a large number of properties spread across England and France that bring in income, both commercial and residential. I have also served as an apothecary from time to time, dealing, of course, in only the most rare and _costly_ potions."

"That sounds like an awful lot of work. How do you have enough time to work for the Ministry and keep your hair looking so brilliant?"

He laughed, the rich sound making me smile. "I hire people to manage it for me. Draco has taken over a portion of it to keep himself busy. He's expanded our holdings already; the boy has quite a head for business." He was very proud of his son.

"An apothecary?"

"From time to time."

I looked around us. "I thought you had peacocks. Someone said you have peacocks."

He gestured to an outbuilding to the side of the exhaustively large manor. "They shelter when it grows cold."

I nodded. That made sense. "The chickens like to stay inside when it gets cold like this, too."

"Chickens?" he echoed.

"Mum keeps chickens."

"Ah," was his only response.

"It's very pretty here," I marveled after a moment, looking all around us.

"It's especially lovely in the spring."

"I'd like to see that," I said softly. I was immediately aware of the implications of what I'd said, but I let it stand.

"I'm certain that can be arranged," he replied.

The building beside the trees was an open-faced, high-ceilinged shelter clearly meant for some kind of animal. It was in good repair but obviously hadn't been used in quite a while. "The family kept thestrals at one point," he explained. "My father. Draco was much more interested in riding a broom than a flying horse that he couldn't see, and so I don't have them anymore."

I could see the unmistakable tall hoops of a Quidditch pitch on the other side of the stable. I felt a pang as I stopped and looked up at them.

He had stopped when I did, and he lifted my gloved hand up to kiss. "Is it too much, dear Ginevra?"

I shook my head. "It's fine. Quidditch doesn't cease to exist just because I can't play anymore."

He pulled me against him and his lips met my forehead in an oddly tender gesture. I rested the side of my face against the front of his warm cloak.

Something had been nagging me for a while now, and I couldn't keep it in anymore. "Why did you give me that diary, Lucius?"

He gave a deep sigh and was silent for a while. "I wasn't aware of the extent of what it was," he finally said. "Had I known what it was..." He trailed off and was silent again. "To be honest, I'm not certain what I would have done with it. As it was, I needed to get rid of it, because there was increasing scrutiny on my family. You were a means to an end, my dear. Get rid of your meddling father, get rid of your meddling headmaster; it all made perfect sense at the time." His arms tightened around me and I rested one of my hands against his chest, just ahead of my nose. "One of the many mistakes in my life, I'm afraid." He paused, not nearly as long this time. "I would offer that I am much changed from the man I was then, but I suspect that you will make up your own mind about me and what I've done."

"You're still exceedingly arrogant, but if I still thought you were that man, I don't think I would be here." I sighed. That was why I had left Harry, after all. He hadn't changed.

We stood for a while in the snow, him holding me and me listening to his heart beat. "We should get back to the manor house, I believe Kitty will have lunch waiting for us," he suggested finally.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Thank you for the awesome reviews! :D**

**Poor Draco. More, uh, limes? I guess? This chapter ended differently than how I'd planned, again totally blaming the blond one.**

We had lunch and then he turned me loose in his library while he worked at the desk there, going over the reports from some of the Malfoy Holdings managers.

Late in the afternoon, he had Kitty take me up to his room to get dressed for dinner. I put on my navy blue dress, stockings and a pair of heels, and then joined him in his informal dining room again. He was wearing a black dinner jacket and he looked stunning. Dinner was an absolutely delicious roast goose.

"How did you enjoy your Christmas here?" he asked me while we ate.

"What, you mean it's done?" I teased him. He gave me an even look, one eyebrow arched, and I had to smile. "It's been really lovely, Lucius, I'll be a little sad to go home tomorrow. It's quite different than I'm used to, but really, really nice."

"You're used to a louder affair," he remarked, and I nodded. "Tell me."

"Lots of laughter, lots of talking. Every year, someone ends up yelling at someone else- sometimes there are even a few punches thrown- but then just a few minutes later everything is forgotten. Presents first thing, then Quidditch late in the morning; biscuits, mince pies, and spiced wine all day long, and a big dinner and then just all cramming into the living room where Ron beats everyone at Wizard's Chess. George sets off fireworks- it used to be George and Fred- Percy lectures, Mum cuts Charlie's hair even though he doesn't want her to and 'accidentally' lets Dad catch her under the mistletoe..." I was smiling as I was speaking, remembering the good times and missing it, just a little.

"It sounds lovely," he said softly. I could hear a little bit of envy in his voice.

"It really is." I got up from my seat and went around to him, settling myself across his thighs. "But this is where I want to be right now. I'm glad I came."

He looked surprised to see me there, as though this wasn't approved dinner table decorum. After a moment, though, he settled his arms around me and I leaned my head against his shoulder. "No mistletoe here?" I asked him.

"No," he replied. "It's just the two of us."

"Part of me doesn't want to leave tomorrow," I admitted quietly.

"You don't have to," he suggested.

I shook my head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Lucius. We've had one night and a weekend together. And while we could make plans about me sleeping in a separate room, we both know it wouldn't happen. I don't think either one of us is ready to live together yet." There was that, 'yet,' again. Again, I let it stand.

"As you say. I'm afraid it will seem very lonely here without you."

"Maybe if I was invited, I'd come back to visit again," I offered.

"Consider this an open invitation, dear Ginevra." He picked up a lock of my hair and held it up to his nose and I heard him inhale.

"I talked to Narcissa." I couldn't keep it in anymore.

He stilled. "What about?"

"You, of course."

"What did my ex-wife have to say?" He was getting haughty again, a sign he was on the defensive.

"That you're incapable of, what did she call it? 'Meaningless flirtations?'"

"And what else?" he drawled.

"That you want more children."

He lifted me gently and set me on the floor. "I do," he told me. "And, Merlin help me, I am." He stood as well and looked down at me, his gray eyes a mixture of challenge and vulnerability. "I attempted it once or twice when I was younger."

"You cheated on Narcissa?" I tried to keep my voice carefully neutral. That would seriously make me reconsider the direction that we seemed to be headed in.

"Indeed not. We've always had a rather _unconventional_ relationship. She had full knowledge of what I was doing at the time- and in fact, she's the one who helped 'clean up the mess.'" His eyes searched mine. "I had thought that perhaps this time, there would be enough to ensure that this would strictly a casual affair."

"Enough what?"

A small, deprecating smile crossed his lips- mocking himself, I thought. "I was drawn to you, of course, for the reasons I expressed- or I never would had pursued you. I thought that the enmity between our families, the difference in our ages, the fact that Narcissa is no longer around to help me when things go poorly- all of these things would keep my intentions from becoming serious."

"What happened?"

He smiled, a tender expression for me this time. "You made me respect you. You were brutally honest with me, showing me the naked truth instead of prevarication or obsequiousness. I have had precious little of that in my life, especially from women. Even Narcissa often found it easier to simply bow before my arrogance."

I sighed. "I'm not prepared to even start thinking about children yet."

"You do want some at some point." It was an observation, not a question.

"Of course I do." I glared at him. "But only if you're not going to insist on talking about it right now." I ignored the smug look on his face. "I am starting... To feel a little more seriously about you as well, Lucius," I admitted to him. "Not 'let's plan forever,' but, 'maybe we could think about dating.'"

"Are you." Again, it wasn't a question, and the predatory look on his face made my breath catch. His hand came around the small of my back and he pulled me against him, his lips sealing over mine in a demanding kiss.

I slid my hands around him, pressing myself up against him, matching his passion with my own.

"Really, Father," came the smug drawl of Draco Malfoy from over Lucius' shoulder. "After all the times you've lectured me about pandering in public."

Lucius pulled away and swung around, his hand pressed gently into the small of my back. "This is _my_ home, Draco," he returned, sounding mildly amused. There was a flash of irritation that crossed his face, but it vanished quickly as he faced his son.

Draco stared at me. "You're..." he started, but never quite made it past that.

"I believe you two are acquainted?" Lucius inquired politely, now looking a little amused.

"Hi, Draco," I offered.

Draco stared at me like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He closed his eyes for a long moment and then opened them again. "Were you really just snogging Ginny Weasley in the dining room?"

Lucius drew himself up to his full height beside me. "Certainly not. I do not 'snog.'"

"Yes," I countered with a grin, and received identical looks of censure from both Malfoys. After a moment, though, Lucius' face softened and he smiled at me.

"As you say," he murmured.

Draco grew noticeably paler. "I... Came to wish you a happy Christmas before I went home," he said stiffly.

"Happy Christmas," Lucius bade him sincerely. "And to Pansy as well. I'll expect you two tomorrow for lunch." It was a clear dismissal.

The younger Malfoy took one last look between us. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Draco," I said softly.

He spun on his heel and left the room and I winced. "Sorry, Lucius."

"Not to worry. He may not like it, but he will be civil." I felt, rather than heard, his own sigh. "I don't know that he's ever seen me happy. We've never been close, not like your family, although it is easier now." He offered me his arm and I took it, and we started walking.

"Is it because he's an adult now?"

"Partly. And partly because almost losing him made me realize that perhaps I wasn't as good to him as I could have been." He paused. "As I _should_ have been." He was silent the rest of the way into the sitting room.

I sat down on the sofa where we'd opened our gifts, but instead of sitting beside me, he continued to stand. "What's wrong?" I asked him.

"You are very close with your family."

"I am."

"Even your insufferable brother who works at the Ministry."

I had to grin. "Even Percy, yes. I don't know that 'close' is the right word, but I do certainly care about him. He's my brother."

"Your family- who despise me."

I stared at him for a moment. Surely this wasn't going where I thought it was. "Lucius," I said warningly.

"I have no wish to come between you." There was a terrible air of finality to his words.

I glared at him fiercely. "Are _you_ making decisions for me with my best interests at heart, now?" I demanded. "I wouldn't put up with that from Harry and I certainly won't from you."

He was visibly taken aback by the question and, for once, seemed to have nothing to say.

"Nothing?" I demanded. "You're not even going to talk about it?"

He stared at me, his eyes cold and distant, and remained silent.

"Kitty!" I called, and the house-elf appeared. "Will you please take me up to the bedroom so I can pack?" I didn't trust myself to get up there without getting lost, and if Lucius was going to refuse to talk to me, then I wanted to be gone as quickly as possible. She looked up at Lucius, who nodded curtly, and she led the way back through the maze-like house to where my suitcase was sitting open on the floor by Lucius' wardrobe.

"Don't leave, Missy Ginevra," she told me. "It's Christmas."

I sighed. "There's not much I can do if he won't talk to me," I told her, pulling the last of my clothes into my suitcase. I closed it. "Can you please get my cloak and gloves and bring them to me by the floo?"

"Missy Ginevra can't leave," she told me sternly. "Missy Ginevra makes Master happy, and Mistress told Kitty that Master needs to be happy."

"Do as she says," Lucius said.

I looked up to see him lounging in the doorframe, his dinner jacket off and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. I'd never seen him so less-than-immaculate unless he was well on his way to getting naked.

Kitty disappeared.

"I thought you wanted to see what it was like to live," I accused him. "Part of living is facing things you might not want to face and having conversations you might not want to have." I glared for a moment. "Even if I yell at you."

I stood and picked up my suitcase. His being in the doorway meant I had to go past him and, as I got close, his arm came across the doorway so I couldn't easily get past him. I looked up at him in exasperation. "I grew up with six brothers who were all bigger than me; I know how to make someone move out of the way."

"You're right," he said quietly.

I wasn't expecting that. "What?" I asked, incredulous.

"You're right. I have no business making decisions that involve you without your input."

"Oh." I really hadn't expected that.

"However, if we are going to make a serious attempt at a relationship then, given the history between our families, your family needs to know."

I sighed. "You're right. I guess yours already does. Since when do you care, though? I thought this was about revenge."

"I am a father as well, and I'd like to think that if my son were to become involved with the family of my longtime rival, he would at least do me the courtesy of telling me."

I turned just my head to look up at him. "You know that would be me, right? I don't think you really need to worry about that." I was teasing him again, just a little bit. I was floundering a little at the rapid turns our conversation had taken and teasing was an easy way to deal with it.

He took my elbow and turned me to face him, and then his lips crashed down on mine. He kissed me fiercely, desperately, as though this was the last time it was going to happen and he was trying to imprint the feel of his mouth into my memory.

I dropped the suitcase and wrapped my arms around him, my hands coming to rest high up on his back. His arms came about me so tightly I could barely breathe.

And then we were frantically tearing off each others' clothes. He lowered my dress and my knickers, leaving my thigh-high stockings and heels on. I took the time to open his waistcoat, but I popped most of the buttons off of his shirt as I grabbed both sides and tore it open.

We didn't even make it to the bed before he was on top of me, inside me, taking me on the dark carpet of his bedroom floor so urgently that the thick fibers were probably going to rub my shoulders raw. I raked my fingernails across his shoulders and down his chest, urging him on.

At some point he pulled out of me just long enough to flip me over and he was on me again. His hands covered mine, pinning my wrists to the carpet, and every thrust dragged his hard length over _that_ spot inside of me until I was mindless, swearing and pleading and calling his name over and over until I came, screaming, my fingers catching uselessly at the carpet.

He was swearing too as his body stiffened over me with his release, and then he collapsed on top of me.

When I could function again, I drew in as deep a breath as I could. "You're heavy," I complained and he laughed, still a bit out-of-breath.

He eased himself off of me and lay on his side on the floor, propped up on one elbow. The fingers of his other hand trailed up and down my spine. "Stay the night," he urged me quietly.

I nodded. "I don't think I can move, anyway. I didn't know you said words like that. Out loud, I mean."

He looked almost unbearably pleased with himself. "I was rather _impassioned_."

"I noticed. I like make-up sex. That wasn't much of an argument, though." I kicked off my heels and let my legs sink bonelessly back against the floor.

"I am almost certain we'll have more in the future."

"Mm, you are an arse," I observed affectionately.

He gave my backside a pinch, immediately soothed by the smooth warmth of his palm. "What are your plans for the New Year, sweet Ginevra?"

I pillowed my head on my arms. "I have none right now, but I'm rather hoping they'll involve you. I know Sirius and Luna and Narcissa are throwing some sort of party at the Black home." I'd been owled an invitation, as had everyone else in the family.

His hand left my body and closed around my wand where it had been discarded on the floor in our haste to undress. With a lazy flick, the thick blanket from the bed floated over to us, and Lucius tucked it over our naked bodies- mostly naked in my case, although I was sure that the stockings were ruined. "I've received an invitation. I've visited Narcissa there; Black tolerates me, which is likely the best I'm ever going to get from him. Luna is very forgiving."

I nodded in agreement. "She is. I'll talk to Dad tomorrow. If we can't... If we can't go there, then I'll just come here to be with you."

His hand brushed across my back and curled around my hip, giving me a gentle squeeze. "Very good," he murmured.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! :D  
**

We did eventually make it to the bed. I used a quick healing charm to fix the places the carpet had rubbed me raw and I offered to do the same with the angry-looking scratches I'd left across his chest and shoulders, but he declined, saying that they would be a sweet reminder of the time we spent together.

We shared a shower the next morning that ended up with him on his back on the fluffy bath mat and me straddling his hips, my head thrown back in ecstasy.

Breakfast was leisurely. Neither one of us was really eager to part company, but at last he escorted me to the fireplace to floo home and, after a final bruising kiss, I flooed home to Shell Cottage.

Bill was sitting on the sofa and he looked up at me as I stepped out of the fireplace. "Have a good Christmas?" he asked mildly.

I could already feel myself blushing. "Yes," I answered slowly. "It was good. Where's Fleur?"

"Upstairs giving Victoire a bath." He grimaced a little. "Someone found the flour."

I made a face. "Just like snow, right?"

"Exactly."

"Do you need a hand cleaning up?"

"Already done." He put down his book and patted the seat next to him in clear invitation to sit down. "Malfoy... Lucius?"

"Yes," I confirmed, staring hard at him, daring him to say something about it.

"Well, that's somewhat of a surprise. Somewhat not, after your declaration of 'not hating him.' As long as he treats you well." He shrugged at my somewhat bemused expression. "After all," he said, leaning back against the sofa and giving me an amused look. "It's not like anyone's ever been with someone the family hasn't approved of before."

I felt myself flush at his words, remembering my part in that whole thing. "You're right. I'm sorry. But Fleur wasn't a Malfoy." I walked across to the sofa and sat down beside him.

"No, that's certainly true. So are you seeing him?"

I nodded. "I guess you could say that."

"What happened, Ginny?" His tone was curious, not condemning.

I sighed. "We were just..." I looked at him and cleared my throat. "Just going to use each other to adjust to... life." I knew that my brothers had no problem talking to each other about sex, but I also knew that most of them desperately wanted to believe that I was going to die a virgin. His eyebrows lifted up but he didn't say anything. "Except then we spent some time together and Narcissa told me that he doesn't do casual relationships and then I started having feelings..." I trailed off, unsure how to finish that.

"He's a bit older than you, isn't he?"

I could feel my face heating up as I nodded. "A bit." And that was a bit of an understatement.

"Younger than Mum and Dad, at least?"

I thought for a moment, then nodded again.

"That's something, at least. Was his precious offspring there?" From his tone, it was pretty obvious Bill didn't care for Draco too much.

I had to giggle, remembering the expression on Draco's face. "He walked in while we were... caught up in each other."

Bill started to chuckle as well. "I wish I could have seen the look on his face."

I thought back to it again and laughed harder. "I wish I had a camera."

Fleur came downstairs with a freshly clean and dressed baby and she looked between us with her eyebrows raised, unable to stop herself from smiling. "What is funny?"

"Draco walked in on Ginny and his dad snogging."

Her smile grew, but she didn't laugh. "What did he get you?"

"A necklace." I straightened up and lifted the pendant from where it was hanging inside my jumper. She set Victoire down by my feet and leaned over to look at it.

"That is beautiful," she complimented. "Appropriate. He is interested, but not too committed at such an early time."

"What do you see in him anyway, Gin?" my brother asked.

I drew my legs up to my chest and rested my cheek on my knee. "I don't know." I did know, I just didn't know how to express it to my brother. "Well, he's gorgeous," I stated casually. Bill snorted and Fleur nodded in agreement. I sighed, growing serious. "He just... Seems to understand me."

"Do you love him?" came the next question.

"No. But... feelings." I sighed again. "I need to talk to Dad about it before he and I actually take a shot at the relationship thing. Not permission, right, just... He- _We _want to be respectful. And he wants to go to Sirius and Luna's New Year's party with me."

Bill's eyebrows rose up in surprise. "Really? Well, Dad will be much less likely to start anything there, and if you can get Malfoy to take that bloody stick out of his arse for five minutes, they may actually see that he makes you happy." He paused and his blue eyes narrowed as he peered at me sharply. "He does make you happy, right?"

I had to smile at that. "Frighteningly so, yes. And I'm pretty sure that stick is there on a permanent basis."

He grinned. "That doesn't surprise me. The next time you see him, will you mention for me that you have five older brothers who are younger and faster than he is, and more than ready to defend your honor if we need to?"

I giggled. "I'm sure he'll appreciate that. Especially at work." My face fell again. "I can't help but feel guilty, though. He and Dad have hated each other since..." I sighed. "Since before I was born."

Fleur settled herself on Bill's other side. Victoire was exploring the outside of my suitcase. "When Bill and I were first together, you did not think much of me."

I nodded, and I could feel the blush spreading across my cheeks. "It's true." We'd had this discussion a long time ago, and I'd apologized to her.

"Your mum as well, she did not like me. But then Bill was hurt and she saw how much I love him and how happy we make each other." She shrugged expressively. "Now we are family, we are close."

"Yes. But there's... More here, I think. They started off when they were both in school. And then there was the whole Death Eater thing, twice, and he tried to kill me at one point..."

"Did he?" Bill asked. "Oh right, that diary. Well, that'll be an interesting tale if you ever have children. 'How did you and Daddy meet?' 'Funny story, really...'"

"What happened?" Fleur asked, curious.

"My first year at Hogwarts, we ran into him in Flourish and Blotts when we were buying schoolbooks. He slipped a diary in with the rest of my books and it turned out to be a Horcrux."

She stared at me thoughtfully for a moment. "And yet you have moved past that?"

I nodded. "It's... Settled. It's in the past, I'm positive he wouldn't do anything like that again."

"You are the one affected by his actions, and if you can move past that..." She shrugged again.

My brother was studying his baby girl, who had bent over to put the handle of my suitcase in her mouth. "I happen to have a daughter."

"Do you? When did that happen?" I teased him.

He gave me a shove. "I really hope she'll grow up in a less troubled time than you did, and that no one will try to kill her."

"Me too," I agreed fervently.

"I honestly don't know what I would do if she came to me and said, 'Hey Dad, you know that Slytherin bastard that you went to school with that tried to kill me? Well, we're madly in love with each other and we're going to get married and have dozens of blond babies-'"

It was my turn to give him a shove. "We're definitely not there."

He grinned. "The point remains. I'd like to think I would say, 'Well, you're an adult and you're capable of making your own decisions,' but I know I wouldn't be happy about it. I'd like to think that I would trust her judgment, but I'm fairly certain that it would hurt- at least for a while."

I nodded. "That's what I'm afraid of. I don't want to hurt Dad."

He nodded as well. "But I'm also a son. If we never did things Mum and Dad wouldn't like- or would even hurt them- I wouldn't be where I am. It broke Mum's heart when I went to Egypt. We all know how she felt about Fleur." He glanced back at his wife and they shared a loving smile. "Charlie wouldn't have gone to Romania, George and Fred wouldn't have opened the shop, and now look how well that's going." He met my eyes, his blue eyes serious. "And you certainly wouldn't have broken up with Harry, would you?"

I shook my head. "No." Yeah, Mum had been pretty upset about that.

"You can't live your life for other people, Gin. If being with Lucius Malfoy is the right decision for you, then the people who love you will support you, even if they don't like it."

"I'm going to be the new Percy, then," I said sourly.

He laughed, and even Fleur joined in this time. "You're a lot more endearing than Percy is, I don't think there's much chance of that happening. Besides, you and Ron are really the only ones who aren't over that yet."

"We are!" I protested. "Or, at least, I am- I'm pretty sure Ron is. And I love him because he's my brother, but he's just _such_ a pretentious git."

"Pretentious? Really? From the sister dating the wizard who carries a walking stick to do his shopping?"

I giggled. "He's actually aristocratic, though!" I protested. "Opens doors for me, stands up when I enter the room..."

"I miss that," Fleur said, and Bill gave her an amused look. "Have him come here," she suggested. "On New Year's. We will all floo together to visit Sirius and Luna."

I looked past Bill to her. "Are you sure?"

"It may help him to know that we... Accept the two of you together." They'd obviously talked about it, and I was honestly really relieved that this was how they were reacting.

I nodded. "Thank you."

My brother grinned suddenly, a grin that turned into a chuckle. "What?" I asked him.

"Narcissa and Luna have decided that this is going to be some kind of goodwill-fostering event." That would explain why Lucius had been invited. "It'll be a full house, I think Draco's going to be there. Do me a favor and kiss Malfoy in front of him so I can see the look on his face."

I had to laugh as well. "I don't think Lucius is too big on public affection."

"Well, if he _thought_ it wasn't public... I'm going to have to talk to George." If there was anyone who could put a plan like that into motion, it would be George.

I shook my head. "What do you have against Draco, anyway?" It wasn't like they'd gone to school together.

"He deals in real estate, so he's in the bank a lot." Bill rolled his eyes. "He's a prat. Thinks he's better than the rest of us, of course."

Well, that made sense. "When were you thinking of going to The Burrow?" I asked.

"Soon, I think," Fleur answered. "Lunch today is leftovers from last night."

I nodded. "Let me get my suitcase up to my room and then I think I'm pretty much ready to go." I gently pried Victoire away from my suitcase and picked it up to take it up to my room. I didn't unpack, that could wait until we got back. I did grab my warm hat and my cloak before going back downstairs. Bill and Fleur were waiting by the fireplace for me; Bill was holding the gifts and Fleur was holding Victoire. I was the last to floo through to The Burrow. I had no illusions that the rest of the family were going to be as laid back about the situation as Bill and Fleur were, but knowing they were supportive helped, at least a little bit.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Wow, thank you for the reviews- you guys are the best!**

Everyone was already there; Sirius and Luna were occupying the sofa, Ron and Hermione were sitting together, Mum was in her chair knitting and Dad was sitting in his battered armchair by the wall. George and Angelina were there too, and Percy and Audrey, which surprised me. The only person missing was Harry, and that didn't surprise me.

"What's going on?" I asked, looking around the very full living room.

"Since so many of you weren't going to come yesterday, we decided to have Christmas with all of you kids today," Mum answered. She immediately took Victoire from Fleur and fussed over her until the baby started squirming to get down. There were so many of us there, which meant a lot of people and things for a baby to explore.

There were hugs and kisses for everyone, except Ron was glaring at me and refused to come near me. I settled down on Luna's other side on the sofa. "How are you?" I asked.

"Rather well, thank you. Fleur, that remedy you sent me is really helping." She smiled softly. "It makes me very tired, though, so please don't think it's the company if I fall asleep."

Sirius was grinning on her other side. "She fell asleep in class the last day before holidays, the poor students didn't know what to do. First years. They weren't sure if it was some sort of test or not." His grin turned to Hermione. "The swot of that year eventually came and got me in a great panic, I thought something was actually wrong."

Hermione shot him a look, but it was good-natured.

"It probably didn't help that I started kissing you when you woke up," she told him and then turned her attention back to me. "It's the hormones, you see."

I raised my eyebrows, starting to smile myself.

"I certainly wasn't complaining, love," he murmured to her, and leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

She leveled her large gray eyes on mine very seriously. "Did you know there's a broom cupboard just on the other side of the D.A.D.A. room? It's not very big, but it's large enough to-"

Mum cleared her throat just then, and her cheeks were a little red. "How was your Christmas?" she asked loudly, cutting Luna off.

"Surprisingly good," Sirius answered, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Narcissa is, er, a lot more tolerable than she was when we were kids. And Draco wasn't too bad, either. He left right after dinner, though, I think he wanted to get home to his girlfriend."

Bill caught my eye and snorted but didn't say anything.

"Did you have a good Christmas?" Ron snapped at me in a rather nasty tone. He'd been doing his best to ignore me up until that point, so it was a little sudden.

I glanced between him and Bill, who shrugged. He had no more idea what was going on than I did. Ron had calmed down about me breaking up with Harry, so this was new. "I did," I answered cautiously.

"Spent it at the Malfoy's, didn't you?" he accused me.

Ah. Everyone's eyes focused on me. "As a matter of fact I did," I retorted. "Not that it's any of your business. How did you know that, anyway?"

"Draco was out for a drink last night and he told Neville that he saw the two of you." And then Neville brought it up with Ron. Of course. "At his house. You know know they tortured Hermione at that house!"

I nodded. "Yeah. He's got that room all shut up, and a lot of others too, because he can't face going into them."

"Oh, poor little Death Eater, afraid of his own house! Serves him right if you ask me." He paused for a moment, glaring at me. "And not even Draco; no, you had to go for the one who's old enough to be your father. Is he paying you?" Beside him, Hermione had hidden her eyes behind her hand.

My eyes flew to his, enraged. "Did you just call me a whore?" I demanded.

He was a little taken aback. "I-"

"That was uncalled for, mate," George told him seriously.

"You can't call our sister a whore!" Percy exclaimed, outraged.

The room erupted into noise. My brothers were all on their feet, and then Sirius was too "That's not what I-" "It's has nothing to do with-" "-none of your business anyway-" "-why don't you-"

Luna was watching them like she was fascinated, her head tilted to the side. Angelina stood up to join them as well. Hermione was looking at me, her face an apology; Audrey looked like she was trying to pretend she wasn't there, and Fleur was giving me sympathetic looks while holding Victoire on her lap, out of the way.

"Enough!" Mum bellowed and everyone fell silent, as though she'd silenced us. "George, you put your brother down right now!"

George had Ron lifted up by his shirt-collar, one arm cocked back to punch him. Ron was the taller of the two, but George had lifted him up onto his toes. He lowered Ron to the ground, still glaring at him.

"Ronald, you will apologize to your sister! I raised you better than to call your own sister a... a... a whore!" She had her hands on her hips and she was scowling at him, her brown eyes flashing.

"Sorry," he mumbled, without any real enthusiasm.

Everyone sat back down, George purposely bumping into Ron with his shoulder as he passed.

I nodded at Ron. For a moment, it was silent enough that you could have heard a pin drop. Then everyone focused on me.

"Malfoy?" George started. No one stood up this time, but the room was once again filled with noise. "How old-" "Didn't he-" "-Death Eater-" My brothers- minus Bill- and Sirius were all directing their torrent of words at me, with expressions ranging from incredulous to outraged.

"- and did you even think how Dad would feel?" Ron shouted over everyone.

"We knew," Dad said, so softly I could barely hear him, but it was enough to stop everyone in their tracks. Surprised, I turned to him and I could see the utterly dismal look on his face. "I saw you together at the floos at work on Friday, I saw the way you looked at each other." He sounded very, very tired. "Are you going to keep seeing him?"

"I am," I replied quietly.

He looked at me for a long moment, then glanced around the room. "Come outside with me for a minute?" he asked, and I nodded. I got up and wrapped myself up in my cloak and we went outside together. We walked out to the orchard, our breath fogging in the cold night air. "I was surprised to see you like that with him, Ginny. Very surprised."

"Why didn't you say something?" _Or come and start a fight with him?_

"I was trying very hard to believe it wasn't... What it is." He looked out over the orchard, his hands resting loosely on the fence. "Do you know why we hate each other?"

"I've heard some things. He told me that he thought you were in love with Andromeda and he wouldn't stand for it."

"Did he?" Dad seemed surprised at that. "That does make a certain amount of sense."

"And Narcissa told me that there was some talk about Lucius and Mum." Dad nodded. "And then, of course, all of the blood-traitor, Death Eater stuff."

"He was never really held accountable for anything because of his family's wealth. Some of us actually had to work and toil to get even a quarter of the recognition we deserved, and then people like Malfoy got everything handed to them on a silver platter simply because they handed the right number of galleons to the right person." He didn't even sound bitter, just weary. "Has he really changed, Ginny?" He looked down at me. "Because I could almost... _Almost_ forgive all of that if he hadn't hurt my little girl."

"He has."

Dad sighed and looked out over the orchard. "I told Mum, of course. And she..." He trailed off for a moment. "I know that if I went there right now and challenged him to a duel, it would very likely only drive you closer to him. And I know that if we tell you that you can't see him, or you have to choose, or anything like that, there's a good chance that we'll end up with the same sort of situation we had with Percy." He grimaced. "If you didn't turn your back on us, then at the very least you would resent us very much. Your mum can't lose another child, whether it's because you choose to go away or because you're driven away by resentment."

I swallowed down the immediate arguments that jumped to mind and nodded. "I know." It had been an act of rebellion that had me flirting with him in the first place.

"I don't know that I can welcome him into my house." His sad blue eyes turned to me, looking searchingly into my own. "And I don't think I'll ever forget everything that's passed between us- _especially _what he did to you. But if he's truly the man that will make you happy, then I can't get in the way."

I peered up at him. "I honestly don't know if it is going to work out between us," I admitted. "But I want to try."

"Then that's all there is to say about it." He hugged me, and I hugged him back fiercely. At last, he stepped back.

"I want to bring him to the party at Sirius and Luna's house." It wasn't a question because I wasn't asking permission, not really. "He's been invited and I have obviously..."

He nodded. "Sirius told me that they had decided to invite him." He had another big sigh. "I would like to see you and I know your Mum would. We haven't seen a lot of you lately."

I nodded. "I know. I'm sorry, Dad."

"If going together will make you go to the party, then go with him. Otherwise we won't see you, will we?" He sounded so defeated and I hugged him again, even as I shook my head. "I don't know that I can get along with him, but I will promise not to start another fistfight." He paused. "You know, after all the things that have happened, now it actually feels like he's won." I could hear the ruefulness in his voice.

"That's not what this is about," I protested.

"Maybe not, but it's hard not to feel that way." He sighed. "If you end up getting married, Ginny, please elope. I couldn't, in good conscience, give you away to him."

My heart broke, just a little. "Dad," I whispered.

"Come on, then." He pulled away from me. "Let's get back inside." He had a smile on his face but I could still see the hurt in his eyes.

We went back inside and I went to sit down again. Mum passed by me and joined Dad in the kitchen. Conversation was happening around the living room like we hadn't left. Bill looked at me, his eyebrows raised in silent question. I nodded, just barely, and he grinned.

"So you decided to let him?" Luna asked from beside me.

I stared at her for a moment, wondering what she was talking about, and then I recalled the conversation we'd had in her room at Hogwarts. "I didn't really decide to, it just... sort of happened."

She studied me for a moment. "Your eyes get very bright when you talk about him," she told me. "Like you have sunshine behind them. Is he very good at making love? I would imagine so; at his age he'll have had a lot of time to practice. Sirius is, I think because he's had a lot of-"

"Love," Sirius broke in gently, a very amused look on his face. "As flattered as I am, I don't think this is really the best place to be having that particular conversation."

She looked around, as though just now noticing we were surrounded by people. "They're all family, though. I know that Ginny's brothers talk about-"

Angelina burst into laughter, cutting Luna off again. She'd obviously heard the entire conversation.

"Not generally in front of other people, though," I told her.

"No, I suppose that's true." She frowned. "I don't see why not, though, everyone here is having-"

"Lunch!" Mum called, a little too loudly. She'd appeared in the entryway to the kitchen and she looked somewhat uncomfortable, no doubt she'd heard everything Luna had said, too. "It's time for lunch."

My blond friend's eyes lit up. Mum had apparently found the one thing that would put her off talking about sex. "Are there biscuits with chocolate in them? I've been eating so many biscuits with chocolate in them."

"Kreacher's been bringing her a plate full of them every night with a cup of tea," Sirius added with a broad grin.

Everyone filed into the dining room to eat. The table was crowded, of course, but that's just the way it went.

We passed the rest of the day there. Ron would glare at me from time to time, but he didn't say anything else. Dad spent a good portion of the afternoon in his garage and Mum was noticeably subdued, but Bill and George and Sirius seemed determined to make sure the rest of us had a good afternoon.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Thank you guys for sticking with this, I'm glad you're enjoying it! :D And super thank you to those who leave me comments, they make my day.**

I walked into the office the next morning and I was actually a little anxious to see Lucius again, especially after everything that had passed between us and what had happened on Boxing Day with my family.

He swept into the office shortly after I sat down at my desk. "Good morning, Miss Weasley," he greeted me with a slow smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy." I couldn't stop the rush of warmth in my cheeks, or the smile I gave him in return.

"You are quite flushed. I trust you are well?" he inquired solicitously. The glint in his eyes told me he knew exactly why I was flushed.

"Very well, thank you." I wanted to throw myself against his broad chest, but our office wasn't really the place for that sort of thing.

"Very good." He passed by on his way to his office, but seemed to be unable to keep himself from trailing the tips of his fingers along my shoulder as he went past me. "Will you take lunch with me today?"

I nodded. "I will."

Hermione didn't seem too surprised when I told her, "I have other plans today," when she opened the door and asked if I was ready to go to lunch.

She nodded, glancing past me to where my boss was sitting in his office, presumably still working.

"Tomorrow, though. Ok?"

"Alright." She offered me a weak smile and then left.

I stood up and went over to Lucius' inner office, smoothing my robes down my thighs. "Are you ready for lunch?" I asked him.

He took the reading glasses off and set them gently on his desk. "Quite." He rose to his feet and came over to where I was standing in the doorway. "Shall we?"

To my surprise, he ushered me down to the floos where we went to his home. Kitty had a steaming hot lunch waiting on the table for us. "Is this where you spend your lunches every day?" I asked as I sat down in the chair he pulled out for me.

"You sound surprised." And he sounded smug. He sat down in the chair opposite me and picked up his fork to eat.

"A little, yeah." I knew he didn't eat at the Ministry, but I hadn't thought he was coming here.

"Kitty is, as you've noticed, an excellent cook." He watched me for a moment. "How was Boxing Day?" The question about my family was unspoken, but I understood it to be there.

"Oh, we had it out," I mused. "Ron implied I was a whore." Lucius stiffened and I rested my hand over his to calm him. "He didn't mean to, he just doesn't always think before he opens his mouth. George was going to punch him and Mum shouted at everyone. Then everyone had a go at me. Sirius is apparently good in bed, Luna's been eating plates full of chocolate biscuits... It was... A typical family get-together." I shrugged. "I had a bit of a chat with Dad."

His eyebrow lifted again in silent question.

"It was... good." I sighed, remembering the hurt expression on his face. "Well, not really. But he told me that they're not going to interfere, so long as this is what I want. Also that you're probably not ever going to be invited over for tea."

He studied me for a long moment. "As long as he's not going to break down the office door and demand a duel for your honor- or attack me- I can accept that."

"I think I broke his heart," I murmured, setting my fork down as I stared at my plate.

He was silent for a moment. "Do you wish to stop seeing me?" he asked, voice carefully neutral.

I shook my head. "I just need to know that we're... Doing the right thing. That you actually want to be with me, that we actually have a chance at making it together."

He stood and came around and leaned over, his hand catching in the small of my back. He drew me to my feet, pulling me smoothly against him. "I want to be with you, dear Ginevra. As for 'having a chance,' I believe we have just as good of a chance as anyone else."

I slid my arms around him and rested my head against his chest. "Do you want to go with me to the New Year's party at the Black home?" When he stiffened, I knew why and I had to giggle as I looked up into his faintly disapproving expression. "I'm a progressive witch, Lucius. I wear jeans, I open my own doors, I ask the wizard I'm seeing on a date when he's taking too long about it."

Almost reluctantly, a smile slid across his lips. "Indeed. At least I know what to bring as a gift for the hostess."

"What's that?"

"Chocolate biscuits." He leaned down and kissed me, his free hand coming up to tangle in the hair at the back of my head. He pulled back after just a moment, looking down into my eyes. "I regret that we don't have more time."

"Then you'll just want me more on New Year's," I told him primly, and there was a dark glint in his eyes. "Speaking of, Fleur suggested that you come to Shell Cottage to pick me up so we can all floo there together. They're very, 'we're happy as long as you're happy,' about the whole thing."

His eyebrow arched again. "Really."

"Mum didn't approve of Fleur when they first got together, so they have a certain sympathy toward us." I grinned suddenly. "I hear Draco is going to be at the party."

"Yes, with Pansy and some of his friends, I believe," Lucius answered. He took in my expression. "If I have to, dear Ginevra, I will take you away from the party and remind you what happens when you tease."

"Is that a promise?" I challenged.

"Indeed." His eyes swept over me. "I do recall you told me I would need to teach you that particular lesson again," he all-but-purred, and I felt the familiar twinge deep in my belly.

I had nothing to say to that. I gently pulled away from him and sat back down in my chair, mostly to keep myself from pulling off his robes and ruining another of his shirts. My heart was going madly in my chest.

He came to stand beside me and traced his finger around the outside of my ear. "You're rather flushed," he murmured. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Lucius, you're going to drive me mad." It came out a breathy invitation, not at all reproving like I'd intended.

"I certainly hope so." He sounded very pleased with himself. "If you're going to make me wait until New Year's to take your exquisite body again, then it's the _very_ least I can do." He swept my hair out of his way and leaned down and nipped lightly at the back of my neck. "Are you certain that you don't wish to spend the weekend here?" His breath was hot against the back of my neck.

I shook my head, the movement bringing my skin in contact with his lips again. "I should spend some time with my friends," I breathed. "We'll see each other at New Year's." But it was so, _so _tempting.

Another gentle nip and then he straightened and regained his seat across from me. "What time should I arrive?"

I stared at him for the moment it took for my mind to catch up to the conversation. "Eight."

"Very good." He was infuriatingly smug.

We finished lunch and went back to the Ministry. Just before we flooed away, he pulled me against him and kissed me again until I was a little weak in the knees. He apparently wasn't kidding about wanting to drive me mad.

* * *

I did go to lunch with Hermione the next day. "Harry seems to think you were cheating on him with Malfoy," she told me as we sat down at a table together.

I shook my head. "No. I'd decided to leave him the night that we left for Canada. Or rather, the night that we got there. The time change really threw me off, I had a lot of time to think."

"You've got to admit, the timing is a little coincidental."

"It is," I admitted. "But he was going to be my 'getting over Harry' sex. Like how McClaggen was going to be your 'getting over Ron' sex." I gave her a pointed look and she met my eyes for a moment before looking down at her plate. "It just... became more than that."

"How?"

"When I first took the position here, he informed me he was going to seduce me."

She looked quite shocked. "Did he?"

I nodded. "And then I started flirting with him and then I actually started talking to him..." I shrugged. "I was a little out-of-sorts, and you know how I don't like to be alone when I'm upset."

"And he actually talked to you?" She was very taken aback at the idea.

"He was surprisingly open with me."

"So then he... seduced you?"

I looked at her over the table. She'd very pointedly turned her attention back to her food. "Do you really want to know? Because I'll tell you." I glanced around. "Well, maybe not here because I'm not sure it's entirely appropriate for work." _Not that it's ever stopped Lucius._

She looked up at me again and I could see the spots of color high on her cheeks. "Maybe that's a better conversation for going out for a girls' night."

I grinned. "I think you're right. Did you notice, though, that Mum didn't pester anyone about marriage and grandchildren on Sunday?"

"If you dating Malfoy means that she stops, I am fully in support of whatever it is the two of you have going on." She was only half-joking. "Ron knows I want to wait until I get my career settled. We've talked about it. He's fine with it. But then your Mum says something to him and he starts looking at me with those big blue eyes that say he's thinking about curly-haired Weasley babies." She sighed and put her sandwich down and looked over at me. "Ginny, you're one of my best friends. So is Harry. I remember when Ron and Harry were fighting and I was caught in the middle and it was awful."

"Harry and I aren't fighting," I told her. "And I'm certainly not going to ask you to deliver messages to him for me." I stabbed my fork into a piece of lettuce. The salads at the Ministry were pretty good. Not as good as what Kitty had made the day before, but pretty good. "I'm not going to flaunt what I have with Lucius in front of him- although I probably can't say the same for Lucius- but I'm not going to hide, either. Although Dad doesn't want Lucius at The Burrow, so that'll make things a little easier for Harry, I think."

"You're actually doing this, though. Lucius Malfoy." There was still a good amount of disbelief on her face, even though she'd been there on Boxing Day.

I nodded. "I am. We're going to Sirius and Luna's thing on New Year's together. I assume he's going to do a lot of looking haughty and glowering at people because everyone knows him, but he was actually pretty charming when we were abroad." I grinned. "I got a lot of, 'Is your boss single?'"

"Just... Just be careful, Ginny. Ok?"

"I will." I felt a little pang of guilt at her concern for me. "Speaking of girls' night, I know I haven't exactly been the best friend lately. We should do something this weekend, you and me and Luna." I paused. "And Fleur, maybe?"

A genuine smile lit up her face. "That would be really nice. I think the morning would probably be best, though, before Luna gets too tired."

Luna had fallen asleep snuggled up to Sirius' shoulder halfway through the afternoon on Boxing Day. "I'll floo her tonight after work."


	25. Chapter 25

I heard a brisk knock on the door just as I was finishing getting ready. I knew it wasn't going to be formal, Luna was happiest in a simple dress and Sirius avoided robes as much as he possibly could, but I decided to skip the jeans and go for a simple long-sleeved dress, showing just a little more leg than I did at work, and a bit of cleavage. And the necklace Lucius had given me, of course.

I heard the door open and he and my brother exchanged a few words. I ran my brush through my hair one last time and went down the stairs as quickly as I could and still be dignified.

Lucius was sitting in one of the stuffed chairs in the living room and he stood as soon as he saw me, holding out his hand for mine.

"No robes?" was the first thing I noticed about him. I walked over to him and slipped my hand into his and his lips dragged along my knuckles in the way I had called not fair.

"Narcissa advised me that this was to be quite casual." His idea of casual, of course, was a waistcoat and formal shirt with a pair of trousers under his warm cloak, his hair tied back at the nape of his neck.

"That hasn't stopped you before."

"You seem to prefer me without," he murmured, and I had to smile.

"I do. You look really good in purple," I complimented him on the color his his shirt.

Fleur came down the stairs then as well, and he dropped my hand and turned to greet her, holding out his hand again. She took it and he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, though not the same way he'd kissed mine. "_Enchante,_" he told her. "_Vous avez une belle maison, Mme Weasley._"

Her face lit up with a big smile. "_Merci, M. Malfoy,_" she replied.

Bill came up just beside me. "I reckon Fleur approves," he told me quietly with a bit of a smile. "Did you know he speaks French?"

"I assumed he did," I murmured back. "Contacts in France and whatnot. We usually just stick to English, though."

He gave me a look and I grinned at him. He went over and picked up Victoire from where she was standing, clutching the seat of the sofa, and staring at Lucius as though she was entranced. She very probably wanted to get her little teeth on the silver head of his walking stick. "Shall we?" he suggested.

Fleur went over to the fireplace and flooed out first, followed closely by her baby-holding husband.

Lucius turned back to me and raked his eyes over me as though he could see through my clothes. "Later, dear Ginevra, I am going to show you precisely how much I approve of your choice of wardrobe this evening."

I felt the warm rush of blood to my face. "Did you whinge at poor Kitty about not wearing robes?" I asked innocently.

His expression didn't really change, but there was a very predatory look in his eye. "I do not whinge," he murmured. "Are you teasing me already? I can't _help_ but notice that there's no one else here at the moment."

I turned away from him before either one of us did something that would ensure we would be missed at the party. Lucius' long legs propelled him towards the fireplace before I got there, and he gave me a mildly amused look before flooing away. I followed quite quickly after him.

He was waiting for me with his hand outstretched, of course, and I slipped my hand into his and let him tuck it into his elbow. We went through the house to the front sitting room, where majority of the noise was coming from.

Conversations died as we entered the room and all eyes turned towards us. Beside me, Lucius drew himself up to his full height. Luna, however, came over and hugged me. "I don't think I'm going to make it to midnight," she admitted to me. "I'm already so tired." She turned her attention to Lucius and gave him one of her gentle smiles. "Hello, Lucius," she greeted, and then hugged him too.

He looked as though he wasn't sure what to do for just a moment, and then wrapped his free arm around her to return the brief embrace. "Luna, how are you this evening?"

"Tired, of course, I just said."

He produced a small packet from inside his his cloak and handed it to her. "I have it on good authority that you've been craving chocolate biscuits."

Her smile grew bigger at his words and she tore open the packet. "Thank you," she told him sincerely. "Oh, I need to go and find some tea to have these with right now." She headed off toward the kitchen.

The corners of his lips were twitching in amusement. "She is a dear girl," he told me, and I nodded in wholehearted agreement.

Narcissa and Sirius closed on us at just about the same time. Sirius hugged me first and then turned to Lucius. "Malfoy," he greeted, offering his hand.

"Black." They shook, and then Sirius moved away. Well, that was better than a punch in the nose.

Narcissa and Lucius exchanged a kiss on the cheek and then she offered me her hand. "Ginny, I'm glad to see you took our discussion to heart."

Beside me, Lucius quirked his eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

I slipped my hand from Lucius' arm and took her hand. "I did. It seems you were right."

She nodded. "There are drinks in the kitchen, Sirius insisted that everyone was to help themselves." She sounded just faintly disapproving.

He brushed his hand across the small of my back. "Are you thirsty, dear Ginevra?"

I shook my head. Drinking was a bad idea. Drinking would probably lead to me pulling Lucius into one of the bedrooms upstairs, and that was _not_ appropriate. "No, thank you." I'd get some butterbeer later.

The corners of his lips twitched again and he excused himself.

Narcissa watched him walk away and then turned back to me. "You look well together," she told me.

"Thank you."

"He looks... happy. As happy as he allows himself to look in public, anyway," she amended, and I had to smile.

"I hope so."

She gave me a small smile in return. "Do enjoy your evening." And then she was gone.

Mum and Dad appeared, evidently having just arrived. We had hugs of course, and Dad was looking around like he was looking for something. Or someone.

"Lucius is getting a drink," I told them. "Apparently we're to help ourselves tonight. Luna's in the kitchen too, I think, she was hunting up some tea to go with her chocolate biscuits."

"I think she's going to leave me for chocolate biscuits," Sirius complained good-naturedly, walking up behind Dad. They all greeted each other.

"I don't think you're in any danger of that. After all, who would explore the broom cupboards at Hogwarts with her?" I teased, and he laughed. "Speaking of, I should probably go and make sure she's not asking Lucius how he is in bed." I excused myself and headed toward the kitchen.

Lucius appeared beside me in the hallway, now missing his cloak, his hand brushing across the small of my back. He held a tumbler of something in the other hand, probably Firewhiskey. "Why don't you show me the tapestry?" he suggested.

I slipped my hand into his elbow and we walked up the stairs to the room where the tapestry was. Sirius had had the room furnished as a smaller sitting room with a couple of comfortable chairs and a cheery rug on the floor. He set his drink on one of the side-tables.

We stopped in front of the wall hanging and looked at it. I'd been to see it since it was restored, and it was beautiful to look at. Above my name and date of birth, there was a little portrait of me, looking much the same way I did right now. Lucius, only being formerly related by marriage, did not have a portrait on the family tree. The golden double-line joining him to Narcissa was broken now that they were divorced.

"19?" Lucius asked incredulously and turned to face me, his eyebrow lifted in surprise. "You're 19?"

I couldn't help but grin at his expression. "I'm a year younger than Draco. How old did you think I was?"

"I suppose I hadn't really thought about it."

"Are you going to leave me now?" I teased. "Afraid you can't keep up with me?"

Almost before I could register what was happening, I found myself pressed up against the wall by his solid body. He was kissing me forcefully, one hand on my hip and the other making a slow path up my leg, under my skirt.

Suddenly, I heard, "What the fuck?" and then the unmistakable sound of two of my brothers laughing from down the hall.

Lucius' hand froze on my leg and he lifted his head so we could see what was going on. Draco was standing in the doorway, seemingly rooted in place, his eyes fixed on where his father's hand had disappeared under the slightly lifted hem of my skirt. The expression on his face was lost somewhere in the middle of horrified disbelief and disgust.

I bit my lip to stifle my own giggle. Bill had apparently followed through on his thought to talk to George about arranging this particular scenario.

"Evening, Draco," Lucius drawled. "Mind your language when there are ladies present."

"Father," he managed, and then turned on his heel and left.

I couldn't help it, I collapsed against Lucius' chest, giggling.

"What that was about?" he asked me.

I looked up at him, still grinning. "Bill wanted to see the look on Draco's face when he walked in on us- what was the word he used? Pandering?"

"Indeed," he replied, his eyebrow arched. "I seem to be unable to 'behave myself' around you."

His hand was still on my thigh, hot over the thin material of my stocking. "I can tell. I'm not really complaining. We should probably get back downstairs before someone else comes up here, though." His hand moved upwards, and it was my turn to raise my eyebrow at him. "Do you really want Narcissa to walk in here and see you with your hand in my knickers?"

That was enough for him to take his hand off my leg and pull away from me, and I couldn't help but be a little disappointed. "You're coming home with me tonight," he informed me.

"How can I refuse such a gentlemanly offer?" I teased him, stepping away from the wall and taking his arm.

"I believe I'm showing you how much of a gentleman I can be by not Apparating you to my home and taking you on the front stairs."

"You know, you've been talking about doing things like that for the past few days and I'm not sure you're any closer to actually doing anything about it than you were on Wednesday." I kept my tone light, but I was baiting him again. I couldn't seem to help myself either.

We were in the doorway at that point. His hand closed over my upper arm and he turned me to face him, lowering his head until his lips were brushing my ear. "Dear Ginevra," he murmured, his voice breath-catchingly low, "as soon as the clock strikes midnight, I am going to take you home and 'tease' you until all you can do is plead for me to let you come."

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding in a long, shaky sigh. He straightened away from me, looking very pleased with himself, and we went downstairs to rejoin the party.

Charlie was there and while he seemed a little taken aback to see me with Lucius, he didn't say anything about it. Bill had probably said something to him.

We had a really good evening. Narcissa was actually surprisingly pleasant company. Watching her and Lucius together was a little funny- they obviously cared for each other but they had a habit of polite, barely-socially-acceptable passive-aggressive bickering that made me have to press my lips together to keep from laughing.

Bill and Fleur socialized with us, and actually all of my brothers did, except Ron. Harry and Ron both seemed to be doing their level best to pretend I wasn't there, and Hermione gave me a few apologetic looks, but I completely understood why she didn't come over and say hi.

Lucius even relaxed enough to show his charming side and spent some time chatting with Fleur in French, which amused Bill to no end.

Victoire spent all of her waking time following after Teddy, cruising along the walls and furniture and occasionally crawling when she had to. For his part, he thought she was "'dorable" and insisted on giving her kisses at every possible opportunity. Eventually, though, they both just curled up and fell asleep, and were moved to a quiet upper bedroom.

Poor Luna fell asleep partway through the evening, too. She was found lying on the sofa in the library and Sirius took her upstairs, where they were gone for a suspiciously lengthy time and he came back downstairs with his hair mussed up and his clothes just a little out of place. When Narcissa gave him a disapproving look, he countered with an unapologetic grin.

Dad even came over at one point and he and Lucius sort-of-postured at each other. There was a stiff, "Malfoy," and an equally stiff, "Weasley," with the extra 'h' while they stared out over the room. But there were no fistfights or hexing, so I was considering it a success.

Draco did his level best to avoid looking at us together and Pansy seemed very, very amused by the whole situation.

Lucius definitely wasn't into public affection. When my hand wasn't tucked into his elbow, he would brush his hand against the small of my back, but that was as far as it got. Midnight came and he leaned down to brush his lips against mine in one of the gentlest kisses he'd ever given me. His eyes held the dark promise of more, however, and he quite quickly found Narcissa and Sirius to thank them for a lovely evening before retrieving his cloak from the library.

"Are all of our evenings out going to end this abruptly?" I asked him as we neared the fireplace to floo to Malfoy Manor.

"I expect they will." There was a look of challenge on his face and I had to grin. "Especially if you insist on taunting me like that."

"I think I can live with that."

**A/N: This is it, dear readers! Thank you for joining me through this, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Special thanks to those of you who've left reviews, you are AWESOME! :D Alesia G- I feel the same way, I have big plans for Hermione. ;)**

**There will be a story from Hermione's POV following after this one. Soonish. Shortly. :D**


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